Russian Republic
by Coco Gash Jirachi
Summary: Future human world AU. FACE family. Russia and China invade and conquer America, taking many of its citizens as hostages back to Russia as prisoners of war, and to sell them off as slaves. Purchased by none other than Ivan Braginski are the Bonnefoys. But are Ivan's intentions as sinister as they first appear? FULL SUMMARY, WARNINGS AND PAIRINGS INSIDE.
1. Prologue: Captured

**_Russian Republic_**

**_By Coco Gash Jirachi_**

**_Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia!_**

**_Summary: Future human world AU. FACE family. Russia and China invade and conquer America, taking many of its citizens as hostages and bringing them to Russia as prisoners of war, and to sell them off as slaves. Purchased by none other than Ivan Braginski are Alfred and Matthew, while their parents remain prisoners of war. Their comfortable, free lives in America are forever gone. But are Ivan's intentions as sinister as they first appear? AmeriCan-cest, but doesn't last forever. FrancisxArthur. Possible future IvanxAlfred. Mentions of and future mpreg._**

* * *

Hey there guys, Gash-chan here with my first multi-chapter _Hetalia_ fanfic! There is a bit of a back-story to how this came into fruition, so, **_I suggest you read this authoress note before you__ continue. __Thank you._**

About two weeks or so ago, my brother and one of his friends were talking about the invasion in Ukraine and were talking about rather economic and political topics, but somewhere along the line, I heard them talk about how one day, though they were probably joking, that eventually the US would be beaten down in a war or invasion of some sort, most likely from Russia or China or both, and become something like the Republic of Russia or Republic of China or West China; something like that.

Normally I try to stay away from politics and the economy when it comes to subjects of discussion, but... because this is easy and also a challenge for me to write at the same time, I'm just taking the idea and rolling with it. I can already picture how I'm going to end it.

And I also normally try to stay away from making Russia/Ivan look like a cruel person just for the sake of being cruel, but... in this case it has to be done, and I'm going to reveal his back story later on as well.

And now I'll shut up and let you read, if you please.

Don't like? Don't read. It's that simple. :P

* * *

**_Prologue: Captured_**

* * *

The Russian invasion overtook the United States far more quickly than anyone had anticipated.

The United States, while not at war with Russia, had been at odds with them for quite some time. For decades, America always served as the world's superhero, swooping in and trying and failing to maintain peace while spreading democracy and trying to crush communism and totalitarianism. As valiant as the country's efforts were, little did they know that the world's biggest country wouldn't stand for it anymore. Little did they know that their country's back-breaking debt would result in the alliance of China with Russia in order to put the so-called "superhero" country in its place, as well as receive just punishment for their debt to China and the rest of the world.

The sheer size of Russia as a country, alongside that of their army made invading America all too easy. With China aiding them, the so-called "greatest country in the world" were nothing but sitting ducks.

Before long, most of the people had become citizen soldiers in their own rights, but not many stood a snowball's chance in Hell at surviving on their own for very long. Life in the United States soon turned into a post-apocalyptic-like setting. Kill or be killed. Or to be captured by the Russians and shipped to Russia as prisoners of war.

Little did the country know just how hellish their worlds would become once they were conquered.

* * *

It was dark, cold and quiet when the family of four began to stir. They were in a small, concrete room with no windows and a large, heavily-secured metal door kept them from reaching outside of wherever they were. All that was in the room with them were a few old, tattered blankets and two small bottles of water. A lone toilet sat in the corner of the room.

The family consisted of Francis Bonnefoy, a France-born, naturalized American citizen along with his husband, Arthur Kirkland-Bonnefoy, also a naturalized citizen. Their sons were Alfred and Matthew, a pair of identical twins whom were born in two different countries; Alfred was born in America when they were on their way across the American-Canadian border during a road trip. After arriving in Canada and trying to find their way to the nearest hospital, Matthew had been born at the side of the road by a Mountie. The boys were physically alike in many ways. They shared the same blue eyes that their father possessed, and each of them had golden-blonde hair and required glasses to see.

Upon waking up in what they could only assume was their new prison cell, they discovered the twins' glasses were missing, as were Arthur and Francis' belts and ties. Later on, after their sons went to sleep, Francis came to the morbid conclusion that it was because the Russians figured they could use their ties and belts to hang themselves with, or the glass from the glasses to try to kill themselves with.

All they had were the clothes on their backs, and Matthew's most beloved stuffed animal; a soft, furry polar bear he almost never let out of his arms. Alfred was at least happy that he was still in possession of his favorite jacket; a brown, insulated bomber jacket with a star crest on the breast pocket, an airplane patch on the upper left sleeve, and the number 50 on the back.

And of course, they were relieved that they were still together.

* * *

There was no way to tell how much time had passed. None of them had a watch on their person, nor any way to contact the outside. They were only given bread and water what they assumed was only twice a day through a slot at the bottom of the door. There was nothing for them. Only to eat, to drink, and wait.

Finally, one day, not long after they had awoken, the door was opened and a bright light was cast upon them. Each of them lifted an arm to shield their eyes as they squinted. In stepped two soldiers, one large and muscular with a scar on his right cheek and dark brown hair, the other shorter and stouter with sandy brown hair.

"_Vy govorite po -russki?_" the larger solider said.

When none of them responded, the other man said, "Do you speak Russian?"

Francis, sitting closest to the door, shook his head. "_Non._" While defending themselves and fighting the invading Russians for weeks, the four had picked up on the meaning of some Russian words and phrases, but not nearly enough to understand the language entirely.

"_Tch,_" The brunette spat in amusement with a smirk. "_Pokhozhe net nikakogo bor'ba ostavili v nikh._" (1)

The shorter nodded and said, "_Kazalos' by tak._" (2)

Arthur knitted his large, bushy eyebrows together and pursed his lips together in an attempt to keep from snapping at their supposed captors. He didn't appreciate them being talked about by the two without their knowing what they were saying.

The brunette soldier locked his hands behind his back and began to speak again. "_Kak grazhdane Soyedinennykh Shtatov Ameriki, vy zaklyuchennyye Rossii za soprotivleniye preobrazovaniye nashey strany nashey kul'tury na vashey._"

"As citizens of the United States of America, you are Russia's prisoners for resisting our country's conversion of our culture onto yours." the stout one translated.

Arthur fisted his hands and bit his bottom lip to keep from snapping at them. Francis did the same, unable to hold back the angry snarl that appeared on his expression. His teeth were bared in anger, and he suppressed a growl, to his own surprise.

"_Vy mozhete byt' udivleny, pochemu vy byli arestovany._" the large man spoke again.

"You may be wondering why you have been arrested." the translator spoke again.

Francis nodded once.

"_Amerika byla v dolgakh s Kitayem v techeniye dostatochno dolgogo vremeni, vy vidite. Ne imeya vozmozhnosti platit' ikh obratno s den'gami, kotoryy imeyet fakticheskoye znacheniye, Rossiya sovmestno s kitaytsami, chtoby vtorgnut'sya v vashu stranu i zabrat' to, chto naiboleye tsenn._"

"America has been in debt with China for quite some time, you see. With no way to pay them back with money that has actual value, Russia teamed up with the Chinese in order to invade your country and take what is most valuable."

Francis, with his brow wrinkled, uttered, "_'What is most valuable'?..._ But, wouldn't that be gold and silver? Diamonds? Platinum?! Oil?!"

"_Tch,_" The large soldier smirked again. "_Zhalkiye._" (3)

Francis snarled again, growling quietly in his throat. "Why did you take people? What sort of sick, twisted sense of power does this give you?"

The shorter soldier appeared to repeat the Frenchman's question in Russian, who then spat out a laugh again and responded in a voice so sinister. Soon, their translation was given.

"Because there is no greater source of power. We've succeeded in bringing down the greatest country in the world. Now we must put them in their place."

Before he knew what he was doing, Arthur had jumped up onto his feet and lunged at the tall soldier, successfully knocking his fist into his cheek. All this did was make the large soldier stumble backwards a bit, and as Arthur felt his energy completely deplete from his one strike he sunk back down onto his knees dizzily, flinching as he saw a foot coming his way. However, to their surprise, the stout soldier held back the larger soldier, speaking hurriedly to his superior. "_Ostanovit' sebya srazu! Nam skazali, chtoby ne prichinit' vred etot, uchityvaya rezul'taty yego meditsinskogo skanirovaniya!_" (4)

The larger man growled, then pulled himself free from the stout man. "_Vsego vam povezlo, ublyudok._" (5)

Arthur, with a hand near his temple, growled and lifted his head. _"You have no right to hold us here... **we're not even natural-born citizens!**"_

"Citizens are citizens, American trash." the stout one spoke before the two soldiers stepped out. "You're lucky we're not allowed to lay a hand on you. _Yet_."

The heavy door slammed shut, cutting off the bright light and the four from the outside of wherever they were. As the tumblers of the locks were heard turning into place, all four of them huddled together with Arthur in the center of the group.

_"Mother, why did you fight them?..."_ Matthew asked in his little, quiet voice as tears streamed down his cheeks. _"You told us not to resist them..."_

"I'm so sorry, all of you..." Arthur responded. "I lost control of my temper. My survival instincts must have kicked in..."

"_But..._" Alfred's eyebrows knit together in confusion as he lifted his head up. "Why didn't _they_ fight back?..."

"They're probably trying to play some sort of sick mind-trick on us, _tout petit,_" Francis said, laying one of his hands on his son's cheek. "Trying to make us look like the bad guys for trying to fight them. Like we're animals."

Arthur's head began to nod downwards in his dizziness, immediately being pulled into Francis' arms. "Boys, lay out the blankets. Mummy needs to rest..." Francis said quietly, stroking his husband's hair and resting his head against his shoulder.

_"Mn,"_ Arthur's forehead wrinkled slightly.

Upon laying down the blankets, Matthew sacrificed his teddy bear by placing it beneath their mother's head as he was placed down to rest. Not long after being covered with their most-intact blanket, Arthur was asleep and his husband and sons were sitting against the wall next to him. With Alfred in one of his arms and Matthew in his other, whom also clung onto his side, Francis held his sons tightly and soon spoke quietly to them.

"Boys," Two identical pairs of eyes laid on their father's face; Alfred's shining with as much strength and determination as he could muster, Matthew's still with tears. "No matter what happens to us from here on out, we must stick together. Whatever the soldiers want us to do, we must do it. If we want to get out of here alive, we must do as they say. It's our only chance at being able to go home."

Matthew, biting his lower lip, soon sniffled and shook as he said, _"Papa... I don't think there's any home for us to go home to anymore..."_

Alfred, turning into his father's side, buried his face into his shoulder. _'I really hope that can't be true...'_ he childishly thought.

* * *

**_To Be Continued..._**

* * *

1: "Looks like there isn't any fight left in them."

2: "It would appear so."

3: "Pathetic."

4: "Stop yourself at once! We were told not to physically harm this one, given the results of his medical scans!"

5: "Count yourself lucky, you bastard."

* * *

... That's part one so far! I've been hoarding the chapters I'm writing of this for a while now because I wasn't ready to post it. I finished up to chapter 8 so far, so depending on how good of a reception this receives, each next chapter will be posted rather quickly.

If I get five reviews or ten favorites before a few days pass, I'll post up chapter 1 immediately. Does that sweeten the deal for my dear readers? I certainly hope so.

So, until next time, please review and favorite!

**_Every review will be read and greatly appreciated, even if I don't respond to them all._  
**


	2. Chapter 1: Purchased Property

Hey there guys! I'm posting chapter 1 a little earlier than I anticipated. When I logged on here earlier and checked this story's stats, I saw it was damn near close to 100 views! O_o Seriously you guys, thank you so much! It means a lot!

And, since I forgot to say this last time, any corrections to the Russian and French that appear in this story will be greatly appreciated; Google translate can only get you so far... y'know what I mean? XD

But anyways, thanks so much for the views, faves, follows and *_le gasp_* reviews! :D They're so greatly appreciated and make me feel so loved!~

So, without further ado, onwards with the story!~

* * *

**_Chapter 1: Purchased Property_**

* * *

Against all odds, Alfred and Matthew were able to follow through on their father's request. Arthur, still mysteriously weak after his attempt to fight back, also did his best not to resist whatever the Russians did or wanted. Francis, despite being able to put his pride aside, struggled himself, but he could only hope and pray that soon their luck would change.

What seemed to be ages later, they were moved from their desolate cell into a slightly larger one. Here there were two beds with decent blankets, a toilet with a sink next to it, and brighter lights alongside a few books that were, luckily, in English. Here, the twins also found their confiscated glasses. They were smudged and dirty, but after a quick polish they were decently clear to see through again.

To their surprise, a clock laid on the wall just out of their reach. Even if they couldn't tell if it was AM or PM, at least they had some sort of sense of time in this place.

One night (at least what they had come to know as night time) when the twins couldn't sleep, they heard a Russian soldier through their door, singing the eeriest lullaby they had ever heard. They had no idea what it meant, but it was creepy and soothing at the same time. It left them a little unnerved, but night after night they began to hear it and it began to embed itself into their brains.

As they listened one night, Matthew clung onto his teddy bear and his brother tightly. Alfred simply tightened his arms around his younger brother and rubbed soothing circles on his back. There were no words that needed to be spoken.

One day, after they had been given their lunch, which had been upgraded to bread and cheese instead of just bread, a Russian man who spoke no English came into their cell and drew blood from each of them. A few days after that, a pair of soldiers came in and handcuffed all four of them before leading them to a communal showering area where, for the first time in what must have been somewhere around a month, they were able to shower and clean themselves up. Arthur and Francis were also given shaving cream and razors so as to shave themselves. What baffled the twins when they caught sight of their mother's mid-section was to how much larger it was than their own. Their own stomachs, as well as their father's, had thinned down quite a bit, and yet their mother seemed to have hardly lost any weight at all. Even with their father giving nearly half of his own rations to their ill mother, it didn't seem like that could have accounted for much, given it was just all bread and cheese and water.

After being brought back to their cell, they each found a clean pair of clothes left on the beds for them. They each dressed in them and left their dirty clothes in a pile in the corner, save Alfred's bomber jacket. He slipped it on over his new garb and zippered it, refusing to part with it just like how Matthew couldn't part with his teddy bear.

Some time later, just before their dinner rations usually arrived, another pair of soldiers appeared; one who spoke English and another who didn't. The one who spoke no English held a digital camera in his hands and began barking orders at them, which were then translated for them.

"You and you, names and relation." the English-speaking soldier said, pointing at Alfred and Matthew.

Alfred, with Matthew clinging to his arm, said, "Alfred Bonnefoy."

_"M-M-Matthew Bonnefoy..."_ Matthew uttered quietly.

"We're twins." Alfred stated.

The translator appeared to relay this information, as afterward the other soldier chuckled and said, "_Oni krasivaya para. Oni prodadutsya bystro._" (1)

He then began to give another command, soon they were told in English, "Stand together."

Alfred and Matthew, already side-by-side, simply nodded and Matthew half-pried himself away from his brother's side so they were both seen a little more clearly. He still held tightly to his polar bear, though. He wouldn't let Kumajiro go, just like he would never let Alfred go.

Francis kept an eye on his sons, with him and Arthur standing not far from behind them. He quirked an eyebrow when the Russian-speaking soldier simply took a picture of them. What confused him even more was when they were told to stand on either side of their sons, and another photo was taken. The one who spoke no English turned off the camera afterwards and spoke as he turned and exited. The translator then said, "That will be all." And then they were left and locked in again.

After they left, Matthew lifted up his scared, tearing eyes and asked, _"Papa, what's going to happen to us?..."_

Francis, with his forehead wrinkled and eyebrows knit together, simply pulled his son into his arms and said, _"I don't know..."_

Arthur, brushing his bangs out of his face and tucking them behind his ear, soon said, _"I hope it isn't what I'm thinking..."_

Alfred, latching onto his mother in an instant, gazed up into his eyes with his own usually strong and heroic optics. "What are you thinking, Mummy?..."

Arthur pulled Alfred tightly to himself, tucking his head beneath his chin and stroking down the back of his head. _"I can't say it..."_

Later that night, after the twins had fallen asleep listening to the Russian lullaby from outside of their cell, Arthur relayed his worries to Francis. Their thoughts were alike in many ways; Arthur suspected they weren't just prisoners of war from a falling nation, but that they were now involved in some sort of human trafficking operation. Francis' thought was about the same, with another idea that they were going to be sold off for slave labor.

Either way, they both feared for the worst to befall upon them.

* * *

It was a long time before their door opened again. While in the middle of Francis reading aloud one of their books, they were taken away again and not only showered, but brought to a sort of medical examination room. Once again, the twins were baffled by their mother's intact stomach, in fact it looked a little larger than they remembered but it could have just been their imaginations. After being washed and shaved again, they were brought to the examination room where they were weighed, measured and scanned before their blood was drawn again. For whatever reason, the doctors or nurses or whatever the examiners were, they gave special attention to Arthur and one of them poked it several times. To the twins' surprise, it appeared to be firm and not flabby.

Whatever was wrong with their mother, they hoped it wasn't a tumor.

They ate their dinner rations in silence that night, and the boys fell asleep earlier than usual. Once their sons were in a deep sleep, Arthur brought up his concerns to Francis. The two husbands held each other closely that night, and Francis told him that no matter what happened, they would be okay.

As they slept that night, the Russian lullaby soothed the slumbering fifteen year-old boys. Their foreheads unwrinkled at it's eerily-calming sound, and they soon slept peacefully.

In the morning after their breakfast rations, a soldier stepped in once more, this time with new clothes for them all. Arthur and Francis were given simple collared shirts with trousers, while Alfred and Matthew, to their surprise and confusion, were given light blue, puffy frocks (who were they kidding, they looked like dresses) that went halfway down to their shins with long white bloomers beneath. They tried to refuse putting them on, but the soldier shouted at them in Russian when they refused. Alfred's nose wrinkled in distaste after they were dressed in the new clothes; the puffy collars with the red bow-tied ribbons around the necks had lace on them, which irritated his neck. However, when he reached for his bomber jacket and slipped it on, he found that he was not stopped from doing so.

Their hands were handcuffed in front of themselves again and they were instructed to follow the soldier. Matthew kept close to his brother's side and clung onto Kumajiro tightly; the feel of his soft, faux fur beneath his hands soothed him and helped to calm him down.

To their surprise, they were led to a room with a table and four chairs. They were uncuffed and told to sit down and wait before the soldier left.

Arthur, had he and Francis not been so weakened by their confinement and lack of exercise, would have suggested that they use the chairs in the room as weapons of blunt force in order to try and escape. However, it was futile for them to attempt resisting their captors at this point. They didn't even know how long they had been kept here. Besides, after telling their sons all of that time ago not to resist the Russians, it would have merely made them seem like savages. They hadn't been held in contempt or stricken once, despite Arthur's one shot at the large soldier all of that time ago.

A short time later, full of silence and Matthew toying with the ribbon around his neck, the door on the opposite side of the room opened, and in stepped two soldiers followed by a tall, silvery-blonde-haired man wearing a tan-brown trench coat and an unusually long baby pink scarf that trailed down his back, stopping somewhere near the back of his knees. The man's hands were folded behind his back and there was a serious look on his face.

"Stand." instructed one of the soldiers.

Immediately, they each nodded and did so, pushing themselves up from their chairs and onto their feet.

"Come forward."

Francis led them around the table and they stood in a line.

"These are the ones?"

The tall blonde nodded once, stepping forwards and planting his feet down in front of the twins. "_Privet, molodyye._" (2) He lifted a large hand covered by a brown glove, using it to grasp Alfred by his chin. Alfred bared his teeth and furrowed his brow, earning a smirk from the tall Russian. "Do they speak any Russian?"

"_Nyet,_ Mr. Braginski." the soldier spoke.

"That will soon change, _da_." the man said, leveling his gaze with Alfred's and staring his purple orbs into Alfred's blue ones. "_V еtih glazah eshche ostalsya duh bor'by. Ya s bol'shim udovol'stviyem vyrvu yego iz nikh._" (3)

"_Oni vashi, delate s nimi chto vam budet ugodno,_ Mr. Braginski." the soldier said. (4)

"_Da,_ they are." Mr. Braginski said before he let Alfred go, who then lifted his hands to his face and rubbed his chin. He then stood back up straight and turned to slowly pace down the line of the Bonnefoys. "And at least now they look presentable. Pretty, even. The photograph hardly did them justice."

Arthur's eyes narrowed and his bushy eyebrows furrowed; he landed his gaze on the Russian and gave his best glare. Likewise, Francis pulled Matthew closer to his side and held onto him. "Just what is it that you are implying?" Francis inquired.

"I am allowed to speak of my property as I please, _da_." the Russian man responded.

"_Property?..._" Arthur repeated, soon pulling Alfred to his side.

"Like so many others from your God-forsaken country, you haven't the slightest idea to just how much debt it truly possessed. There was only so much they could say to the public; if you think it was billions or even trillions, you're sorely mistaken." Mr. Braginski stated, stopping just in front of Arthur and speaking with his hands folded behind his back and his head up high with what seemed to be a sneer. "Amerika has been doomed to fall from the start. They never should have declared their independence from the British empire."

Alfred's brow furrowed, and he looked up at his mother. _"What... what does he mean, Mum?..."_

Arthur hung his head and shadowed his eyes in his bangs. _"The American economy... I... I always knew it was surviving precariously, but... I never thought..."_ He grit his teeth and uttered, _"What kind of number exists that's larger than trillions?..."_

"As you're already aware, the Chinese aided Mother Russia in the invasion. All of the gold and oil and precious stones in your country wouldn't even cover one percent of the debt it owes to China; to the _world_." Mr. Braginski went on. "So as a way to get such funds, you prisoners of war have been purchased by those who offer the highest bids."

_**"Wh-what?!"** _Arthur exclaimed.

**_"How can that-"_** Francis cut himself off.

**_"No!"_ **Matthew squeaked, ducking his head beneath his teddy bear.

**_"That can't be true, America is the greatest country in the world!"_** Alfred exclaimed, fisting his hands and glaring up at the Russian man. **_"I don't care what you stupid Russians and the Chinese did to us, you'll never get away with capturing and selling off all of our citizens scott-free! Democracy prevails for a reason, you stupid commie!"_**

Before Alfred could feel any pride swell in his chest for mouthing off the taller male, he was quickly silenced and sent flying back into the table by the hand that made contact with his cheek. He let out a sharp yelp as the edge jabbed his rib cage and made him sink down onto his knees.

**_"Alfred!"_** Arthur was kneeling in front of his heaving son in a moment and grasped him by the shoulders. **_"Are you alright?!"_**

Alfred shuddered, whimpered in pain, but somehow said through grit teeth, _"I-I'm fine, Mother..."_

"_Foolish boy._" Mr. Braginski spat with a smirk. He lifted up his gloved hand and began inspecting it, as if he could see his nails through the brown fabric. "If I were you, I wouldn't mouth off to the man who oh-so graciously decided to buy you and your family for triple the auction's asking price."

Francis held a choked gasp inside of his throat and, holding Matthew tighter to his side, uttered, _"B-bought?..."_

"_Da,_" the Russian answered. "You have very beautiful sons, _Monsieur Bonnefoy_. I'd be a fool to turn down an opportunity to crush their livelihood. And it's just a bonus that I now have someone to hand-scrub my estate's floors."

_"You're..."_ Arthur's eyebrows knit together as he rose onto his feet, keeping Alfred close to himself. **_"You're despicable!"_**

"As despicable as the country who plays babysitter to the rest of the world?" Mr. Braginski asked with an arched eyebrow and a well-placed smolder in his eyes. "You Americans are all alike; you think you're entitled to everything and think that you can run the world with your so-called _'great democracy'_. If democracy is so amazing, why is it the cause of your nation's downfall?"

Alfred bared his teeth, growling, glaring, but soon was silenced when his mother's hand was placed upon his head. Blinking, he looked up to see his mother's saddened expression. Immediately, it made him bite his lip and hang his head. _"I'm so sorry, Alfred... but... there's nothing that we can do now. If we have to be at some Russian man's mercy in order to get through this horrible fiasco, then so be it. It could be worse... much, much worse."_

"_Hmm,_" Mr. Braginski chuckled. "How cute. Unfortunately, you've yet to be informed of the bad news that comes with this ordeal. While you and your husband are also my property, you're not coming home with me today." Francis blinked and gasped, as did Arthur. Before they could question why, the Russian continued. "All captured adults must be held in captivity for a set period of time, so as to weed out the ones who murdered the Russian and Chinese soldiers during the invasion."

_**"Mother and Father never killed anyone!"**_ The three other Bonnefoys blinked as Matthew's outburst. He stared at Mr. Braginski with pleading, shining blue eyes brimming with tears and held his teddy bear close to himself beneath his chin. **_"All we ever did was run away from the soldiers to try to stay alive! We thought we were going to die unless we ran away! Mother and Father would never kill another human being! Spiders yes, but people no!"_** His eyes blinked and the tears began to fall, streaming down his cheeks and beginning to fog up his glasses. **_"Please... you can't tear us apart just because we ran away!"_**

**_"That's enough from you."_** Mr. Braginski's suddenly firm and possibly angry tone made Matthew freeze up immediately, suddenly staring at him in fear. "It is not my decision to make. Feel grateful that I purchased all four of you instead of just you and your brother, _da?_ Others are not as charitable as I am." He smirked as he saw Matthew shrink down into himself, huddling with his polar bear in his arms. "Alfred and Matthew, correct? The two of you will come home with me today, and your parents will be transported to a holding facility. If you cooperate, you will get through the process in five months."

**_"Fi-five months?! Without Mother and Father?!"_** Alfred exclaimed.

"Alfred, it will be alright."

Alfred turned his head to his father, who stared down at the floor. "It's better to spend five months apart... then to be killed. Mother and I will be fine... we'll have each other, as will you and Matthew."

**_"But - but Papa!-"_**

"Say your goodbyes quick," Mr. Braginski said. "It is a long drive home from here, and I'd like for you to get acquainted to the house as soon as possible."

Alfred glared at him again with a scowl, but then turned his head with a _'hmph'_ and snapped, **_"Fine."_**

"Alfred, Matthew." The twins stood together again as their father addressed them. "_Nous nous rendons compte que les choses ne seront pas faciles parce que nous devons nous séparer._" Francis began, transitioning from English into his native tongue, French, smoothly. "_Mais peu importe où nous sommes dans le monde, vôtre mère et moi vous aimons de tout nôtre coeur._" ("We realize that things won't be easy because we have to part," "But no matter where in the world we are, Mother and I will love you with all of our hearts.")

"_Tenez, un moyen de rester ensemble même si nous sommes séparés..._" Arthur reached to the back of his neck, undoing the clasp of a silver chain around his neck as Francis did the same. At the same time, they took off and held up their matching pair of silver fleur-de-li pendants, which gave a glisten in the bright light of the holding room. "_Papa et moi vous les donnons afin de toujours être dans vos pensées._" ("But as a way to keep us together while we're apart..." "Papa and I are bestowing these upon you as a way to keep us in your thoughts.")

Alfred was always consciously aware of the fleur-de-lis around his parents' necks. They had been wearing them since before they were born, so they became one with their parents' beings. He remembered resting his head nearby the one on his papa's chest when he was a child; during the summer, his father would often abandon his shirt when indoors, and sometimes when he was young and still fussy, when his father would hold him against his bare chest and rock him in his arms to lull him into calming down, seeing the fleur-de-li glistening against his chest as he listened to his father's heartbeat, it seemed to be the most soothing thing in the world. Even Matthew could remember grasping onto it when he was just a toddler, playing with it and giggling as it shined in the light.

Arthur clasped his pendant around Alfred's neck, and Francis did the same with his around Matthew's neck. Arthur then fixed the collar of Alfred's outfit, evening it out before he fixed the collar on his bomber jacket. The pendant settled against Alfred's chest as he did so, and he then lifted his hands up to his son's face. He brushed the back of his hand against his cheek in an affectionate manner; a physical way to show he loved him without hugging him or kissing him. Arthur did his best to keep a brave face, somehow managing to give his son a small smile. "_Promets-moi quelque chose, Alfred._" Alfred lifted his head and leveled his gaze with his mother's. "_Fais de ton mieux pour bien te comporter. Fais ce qu'on te demandera, mais ne perds jamais espoir. Sois fort, sois courageux, sois sage._" Arthur's smile widened slightly as his eyes saddened a tad. "_D'accord, mon petit héro?_" ("Promise me something, Alfred." "Do your best to try and behave. Do as you're told, but never give up hope. Be strong, be brave, and be good." "Okay, my little hero?")

Alfred bit his bottom lip as his mother's hand brushed down the back of his hair, appreciating its soft feel as it wove between his fingers. Alfred then put on his best brave face, despite the sadness in his eyes. "_Oui, Mama._" he responded with a small smile of his own as he set free the tears he was holding back. He really lost it when his mother suddenly flung his arms around him and held him tightly. He felt him trembling against his body; his unbelievably smart, beautiful and strong mother shook like a leaf against him. Instead of losing himself, he simply tightened his embrace and returned the hug full-force.

Francis, holding Matthew's cheeks in his hands, gently peppered kisses over his youngest son's face, savoring his last few minutes with his little papa's boy. "_Sois courageux mon petit Matthieu. Normalement,je ne m'inquiéterai jamais pour toi, peut-importe les circonstances mais...essayes de bien te tenir. Et veilles sur ton grand frère, nous savons tout les deux qu'il à tendance à perdre rapidement son sang froid._" Francis soon ensued a group hug for the four, where they held each other and kissed each other as much as humanly possible. "_Ta mère et moi nous aimons de tout nôtre coeur. Vous serez la première et la dernière chose nous penserons le matin quand nous nous réveillerons et le soir quand nous nous endormirons._" ("Be brave, my little Matthew. Normally I'd never worry about you under any circumstances, but... in this case, please, try to keep yourself in check. The same with your big brother; we both know he had a tendency to lose his temper." "Your mother and I love you with all of our hearts. You'll be the first thing we think of when we wake up in the morning, and when we fall asleep at night.")

"_Nous vous promettons qu' _«adieu»_ ne sera pas la dernière chose que nous nous dirons. D'accord?_" Arthur said. ("We promise that _'goodbye'_ will never be our final words to you. Okay?")

The twins looked up at their parents with identical blue eyes and nodded.

"Boys," The four turned their heads to see Mr. Braginski holding out his extended hand. "Come along, now."

Alfred and Matthew lingered in their final hugs goodbye to their mother and father, and soon very reluctantly pulled away from them. Francis did his best to smile at them as they looked back at them, placing his hands over his heart. "_Mon bébés aura toujours dans mon coeur. Bébés joli oui, mon tout petits._" ("My babies will always be in my heart. Yes you're very beautiful, my little ones.")

The twins smiled at their father's last line of dialogue; spoken was one of the final lines in the French lullaby he regularly sung to them. However, the harsh reality of their situation was shaken into them by their Russian "owner" grasping Alfred by his free hand. It gave him a small fright, but upon being spoken to he was able to shake it off. "Come now. We mustn't be late."

Alfred shook off asking what they would be late for, and instead tightened the hand of his that held Matthew's hand. The soldiers then stepped aside, one of them opening the door to let Mr. Braginski exit without them being handcuffed, to their surprise. Matthew turned his head, as well as his body slightly, to wave goodbye to their parents with his bear-clutching arm. He soon sniffled and began to tear up as one of the soldiers told them to turn around and handcuffed them to take them away.

Alfred, having watched out of the corner of his eyes, soon turned himself forwards and squeezed his eyes shut. "_Don't look, Mattie._" Matthew turned his head forward as he began to shake. "_It will be easier if you don't look._"

Matthew then hung his head and shut his eyes, tightening his grip on Alfred's hand and his beloved plush polar bear. _"Oui, Grand Frère..."_ ("Yes, Big Brother...")

Wherever they were headed and whatever they would have to do for this man who "so graciously" bought their family, they knew it would be far better than what lay ahead for their parents in their next holding facility. Their next prison.

And they had no idea if life with this Russian man would be a prison. All they could do was hold tightly onto each others hands, feel the silver chains around their neck, and hope for the best.

Anything was better than prison.

* * *

**_To Be Continued..._**

* * *

1: "They're a pretty pair. They'll sell quick."

2: "Hello, young ones."

3: "There's still a bit of spirit in their eyes. I will take in great pleasure by ripping it away from them."

4: "They're yours to do with as you please, Mr. Braginski."

* * *

**_BEFORE YOU ASK ANYTHING. YES I HAVE A REASON FOR PUTTING SOME TRANSLATIONS RIGHT AFTER THE TEXT THEY CORRESPOND WITH._** I wanted what the Russians were saying to be left mostly mysterious until you could read for yourself what they meant after the fact, while I felt that the goodbyes spoken by the Bonnefoys in French made more sense if you knew what they were saying in the moment that they were happening.

There's a method to my madness, contrary to popular belief.

Now then, thank you all for reading, reviewing, faving, etc.! :D From here on out, I'll most likely only post a chapter a week until I run out of my reservoir of already-completed chapters. I'm averaging about 2 or 3 a week depending on various things, so I'd like to space them out as much as I can.

Anyways, until next time, review please! It will encourage me to keep posting and makes me happy~ :3

_P.S.: Repeating this for repeating's sake: any corrections to Russian and French will be greatly appreciated. Danke!~_


	3. Chapter 2: A New Home?

Okay guys, you're getting this update early again. Maybe even the next chapter too because I realize this chapter is rather short and ends with a cliffhanger. Chapter 3 is also rather short, but yeah, I'm just feeling generous this week.

After this chapter and chapter 3 are posted, I'll only update once a week until I don't have a collection of ready-to-post material. I'm trying to conserve what I have so far to make it last, so there won't be as many waits between updates.

Anyways, going into this chapter, please keep in mind that the AmeriCan pairing is not permanent. If it isn't your cup of tea, I apologize.

Either way, enjoy the fact you're getting another early update.

**_P.S.: Any corrections to the Russian and French that appear in this story will be appreciated. Google Translate can only go so far._**

* * *

**_Chapter 2: A New Home?_**

* * *

After being led outside for the first time in weeks, possibly months, Alfred and Matthew were placed into the back seat of the Russian's town car and the door was closed and locked, keeping them inside as Mr. Braginski made his way to the driver door. As they picked their heads up to look out the window, they saw their parents being led outside by the two soldiers who had cuffed them inside. They pressed their faces against the glass of the window, waving goodbye to their mother and father as they were led into the back of a van. All their parents could do before they were out of their sight was do their best to smile, and each gave a nod.

Mr. Braginski soon opened the driver door, sat down and closed it. As he inserted the key into the ignition and turned it, he looked at the boys in the rear-view mirror and said, "Dirty my windows and you'll be the ones cleaning them, _da?_"

Reluctantly, even though they couldn't see them anymore, the boys pulled themselves away from the back window and sat down properly as the engine revved and the car began to warm up. They had no idea what month it was, so as soon as they were outside, they were shocked at how cold it was. Russia was known for being cold year-round, but it was a bitter cold they were not familiar with.

That, and they were wearing dresses with bloomers.

"Good boys." Mr. Braginski said in an oddly, somewhat gentle tone of voice. "Seat-belts on." Both boys obeyed the unexpected instruction, receiving praise once more after the Russian heard the clicks of their seat-belts clicking into place as he locked his own into place. "Now we will be going home then, _da?_"

Mr. Braginski then took the car out of park and pulled away from the sidewalk, seamlessly merging into the street. At hearing the word "home" again, Alfred hung his head. _"Home..."_ he muttered.

Matthew placed his hand atop of Alfred's and worried his brow. "Remember what Mama and Papa say about home, Brother. Home is where the heart is."

Alfred was silent for a moment before he nodded and said, "Yeah, I know you're right, Mattie..."

"So then," At Mr. Braginski's voice, the twins picked their heads up and looked at his reflection in the rear-view mirror. "Call me formal, but I believe we need a more proper introduction, _da?_" He smiled an oddly childish smile, which completely clashed with his rather sinister-looking eyes. "My name is Ivan Braginski, and I prefer it if you call me Ivan or Master instead of Mr. Braginski."

"_Yeah, 'kay,_" Alfred answered half-heartedly with a nod as Matthew nodded, too.

"And your names?"

"You already know what they are-"

"Do not talk back to me in such a way, little one." Ivan's voice held a forceful tone of anger.

Alfred gave a quiet growl before he quietly sighed roughly and said, "Alfred."

"Just Alfred?"

Alfred caved and told the man his full name. "Alfred F. Jones Kirkland-Bonnefoy."

Ivan smiled after he answered him clearly, then said, "And you?" in regard to Matthew.

Matthew rested his head atop of his plush polar bear's head and said, "M-Matthew Williams... K-Kirkland-Bonnefoy..."

Ivan gave another uncharacteristically happy smile. "Good, now we know each other's name, _da_."

A few minutes later, when the boys weren't up for talking, Ivan flipped a switch on the dashboard that let up a privacy barrier between the front and back of the car. The boys acknowledged it somewhat gratefully, and then spent the rest of the long car ride "home" looking out of the windows, and doing their best to say encouraging words to each other until Matthew fell asleep against Alfred's shoulder.

After Matthew was asleep, Alfred carefully took his mother's fleur-de-li pendant into his hand and stared at it for several minutes. Eventually, he tucked it underneath the annoying, puffy collar of the frock he now wore so as to keep it safe. Half-heartedly, he kept gazing out the window through half-lidded eyes. He had no idea what season it was, but all he knew was that the Russian countryside looked vast and cold. Judging by the gathering, graying clouds he assumed it was going to snow later on that day.

It had been ages since they were outside, so while he tried to appreciate the scenery unfolding in front of his eyes, he found it difficult to do so.

Soon, after driving down a desolate country road, the car turned into a long half-circle driveway, upon which it came to a stop in front of a large white house; when Ivan had called it his estate, he surely meant it was an estate. Alfred thought back to the big mansions that Tony Stark and Bruce Wayne owned in the _Iron Man _and _Dark Knight_ movies; those superheroes had nothing on Ivan's manor. If only he were a superhero.

His thoughts were proven to be correct when he heard the driver door open and slam closed before the Russian man came around to his side of the back seat. Alfred turned his head and looked up as Ivan opened the door and leaned down to look inside. "We are home now. Follow me, _da_."

Alfred nodded once before Ivan stood back up straight, laying his hands on Matthew and rousting him with gentle shakes. "_Mattie. Mattie, come on. Wake up, Mattie!_"

Matthew's head snapped up with a startle, but then his eyes half-closed in sleepiness before he stretched, gave a yawn, and reached beneath his glasses with one hand to rub at his eyes. He then suddenly shivered from the cold air coming in from the open car door, and his heart sank when he realized Ivan was standing outside of the car. "Mm," He rubbed his cheek against the top of Kumajiro's head. _"I thought it was a dream..."_

Alfred shook his head once, sadly, then grasped Matthew's hand and said, "Come on, let's go."

The twins climbed out of the car, and as they straightened themselves, Ivan closed the car door while they gazed up at the house. Matthew squeaked, coddling Kumajiro closely, and uttered, _"M-maple leeeaaaafff... A-Alfie, this place is way bigger than our house."_

"No kidding," Alfred replied.

"I am very rich and very powerful man, _da_." Ivan said firmly. "You are lucky that you will not need to sleep in my basement. Count yourselves lucky."

Alfred scoffed, then muttered, "_Chanceux? C'est pas lui qui doit faire le ménage ici._" ("Lucky? He's not the one who's going to have to do all of the cleaning around here.")

Just before Matthew could even think about giggling, Ivan said, "I would appreciate it if you didn't talk about me behind my back in front of my face, _da_. When you are in my presence, I expect you to speak in English, or in Russian, as I will be sure to see to it that you learn the language of the motherland, _da_." Alfred grit his teeth and growled again, but was soon snapped out of it when Ivan grasped him by his free wrist and began to lead the three of them up the steps and to the door. "Now then, upon coming inside, you will be introduced to my older sister and her three sons before I show you to your living quarters. You will treat them with respect, including the six year-old."

Alfred scoffed again and asked with a raised eyebrow, "What's a big and powerful man like you doing living with his big sister?"

Ivan cast him an icy glare that silenced him immediately and responded with, "I respect and love my family. I do not live with them, they live with me. Make another crack at them and I'll chain you in the basement and have at you with a riding crop. Are we clear, _da?_"

Alfred bit his bottom lip and violently shook his head yes before turning his head away in fear.

"That's what I thought."

Reaching the door, Ivan let go of Alfred's wrist, who then pulled it as far away from the man as possible and kept it close to his chest. Ivan turned the key in the lock before pushing the door open. He rather roughly shoved the boys inside, making them stumble and fall over into the foyer before he stepped inside himself. As he shut the door and locked it behind him, he called out, "_Katyusha, mal'chiki! YA vernulsya!_" ("Katyusha, boys! I have returned!")

**_"Uncle Vanya!"_**

Alfred and Matthew pressed themselves up against the wall as a little boy came running toward the door, practically pouncing himself into Ivan's arms, earning a deep-from-the-chest chuckle from the silvery-haired man. He held the small boy in one of his large arms without much effort and placed his other large hand on top of his head, ruffling his sandy-blonde hair. "_Privet,_ Little Raivis. You seem very happy to see me, _da_."

"Mama says you left before I was awaked this morning," Raivis replied, sticking out his bottom lip in a pout as his eyes began to sparkle. "Missed Uncle Vanya!"

"_Kak milo._" ("How cute.") Ivan said, planting a kiss onto his nephew's forehead before he set him down on his feet again. Raivis simply kept smiling and then turned back around, running off again. Ivan then turned his now serious eyes onto the twins and said, "Follow me."

The twins nodded, diligently following behind their new master, Alfred doing his best to hold his head up and keep a determined expression on his face, and Matthew behind him with his head down, resting atop of his teddy bear. They were soon led into the parlor, where two other boys, only much older than the six year-old, were seen. One was a tall blond with short hair, dark blue eyes and glasses, who was reading a book. The other was a bit shorter than him with brown hair that went down close to his shoulders, and his eyes were a lighter blue than his. Until his uncle and the twins entered the room, he had been leaning his head against his hand and seemed to be entranced by a television program. However, upon their entry, he picked his head up and said, "Welcome home, Uncle. Mother told me to send you her apologies; she's out doing household shopping for the day."

"Not to worry, Toris. The twins can meet their new mistress later, _da?"_ Ivan replied, glancing to his side, where the twins stood.

Matthew merely squeaked and kept quiet, while Alfred muttered, "_Oui oui,_ Master..."

"You learn faster than you appear to, dear little Fredka."

Alfred growled and averted his gaze from the man at that, doing his best not to lose his temper. Ivan had already struck him once today, and he didn't want to get on this man's bad side. Again. He could probably send him to the hospital, pay to have him fixed back up to one-hundred percent, take him home and break him all over again. He couldn't disobey his parents' parting wishes with him and Matthew.

"Eduard, Toris." Both boys stood up when their uncle addressed them, Eduard with the posture of a proper gentleman and his hands folded behind his back, much like Ivan did, and Toris with his hands folded in front of himself. "Alfred, Matthew, these are my nephews. Until now they've been in charge of the house cleaning as a way to pay me back for paying them through university. However, it is now your job to do most of the grunt work, so that they may have more time to study and help out their mother. They will aide you when their free time sees fit, and do not give them a hard time. They are your superiors."

Alfred held back rolling his eyes and nodded instead. "_Yes, sir._"

Matthew, with as much dignity as he could muster up, held Kumajiro tight in his arms and bowed to the two elder boys. "_Bonjour, Messieurs._"

"Curtsy to your elders, it shows respect." Ivan instructed as nonchalantly as he would if Matthew were a girl.

**_"Like hell we will!"_ **Alfred snapped, pushing Matthew behind his back to guard him from Ivan. **_"Curtsies are for girls, and I don't care if those fucking soldiers made me play dress-up in this ridiculous pansy garb, but we won't let you play dolls with us!"_**

"It was not soldiers who selected these outfits for you, it was I." Ivan replied without missing a beat.

**_"Who the hell dresses up boys like they're girls?!"_**

"Someone with a Lolita complex. **_Now curtsy!_**"

Matthew seamlessly copied his brother in a mirror-image as the other did what they were told in a panic. Alfred, nearly losing his balance for a second, then muttered, "_Mattie, nous avons été achetés par un pervers._" ("Mattie, we've been bought by a pervert.")

"_Qu'est-ce qui vous fait dire cela?_" ("What makes you say that?") Matthew asked, being far too innocent for his own good.

"_Mon Dieu..._" ("My God...") Alfred sighed just before he nearly stumbled over again. He managed to catch himself and soon stood back up straight with his eyes glaring down at the floor. He was soon surprised, blinking at the feel of a large hand patting him atop of the head.

"_Khoroshiye mal'chiki._" ("Good boys.") Ivan praised, ruffling each of the twins' hair before he took his gloved hands away from their heads. "Now then, follow me. I will show you to your new living quarters, _da_." Ivan half-turned to leave and then landed his gaze on Toris, surprising him with his frightening eyes and making him flinch. "Toris, you will be training them for me, _da?_ They will report at the bottom of the stairs when they are settled in."

"_Da_, Uncle, I got it." Toris responded before he gave him a polite bow.

"Eduard, start on lunch soon as well. Something large and starchy, _da?_" Ivan turned his gaze onto the twins again, making them blink. "The boys lost a substantial amount of weight during their time in prison. We can't have them working hard in this big house while they're famished, now, can we?"

"Very well, Uncle." Eduard replied as he placed one hand onto his hip. "What shall I make?"

Ivan landed his gaze on the twins again. "What do you want?"

Normally, Alfred would have been taken aback by this man's kindness, as he had a way of intimidating everyone around him. But he answered quicker than he could catch himself. "Anything but bread and cheese! That's all we've had for ages!"

Matthew simply said, quietly, "We'll eat anything we have to."

"Any requests?" Eduard asked.

Alfred's stomach soon let out a rather loud grumble, forcing him to clutch it with one hand as he said, "I'd _really love_ some hamburgers..."

"Sounds acceptable to me. Beef is a good source of protein, _da_." Ivan said, giving a nod of approval. He then landed his eyes on Matthew, whom twitched and merely nodded, as if saying he agreed to eat what Alfred requested. Ivan then turned and said, "Come along, boys."

* * *

Alfred and Matthew, both quiet, followed Ivan through the hallways and up the stairs into what seemed like a labyrinth. However, they both possessed an excellent sense of direction and were able to start mapping out the area in their heads. Ivan led them down the hallway near a large window toward the left side of the house, upon where they were brought to the final door on the left. Ivan turned the knob and pushed it open for them, saying, "Here are your rooms, _da_."

They both blinked at what they saw inside after being told to enter. A large bed, neatly made with several thick and warm blankets lay against the middle of the right wall, on either side were bedside tables and a few feet away from the wall was a large window. Next to the right side of the bed was a walk-in closet that was currently closed.

Ivan pointed to the door on the left side of the room and said, "Bathroom is in there, _da_. It connects to the other bedroom." He then pointed to the closet. "I put more clothes in your closets for you, _da_. I expect you to shower or bathe at least every other day, understood?"

The boys both nodded, so Ivan gave them a small smile. It did little to ease their minds regarding the man, but that was probably his point. He then turned and exited the room, bidding them farewell and telling them he would be in his study. He closed the door behind him.

At the sound of Ivan's footsteps heading down the wall and fading from their range of hearing, the twins turned to each other, shared a long look, and then flung themselves into one another's arms. Matthew, clinging onto the front of Alfred's bomber jacket, let go of Kumajiro and the teddy bear stayed sandwiched between their abdomens. Alfred held on tightly to his younger brother, weaving one of his hands into his hair and doing his best to keep his sobs in his chest and tears from falling.

_"Alfie, I'm scared... I'm so scared..."_ It all started to flood out of the two. _"I want to go home... I want to be with Mama and Papa again, and I want everything to go back to normal! Why can't things just go back to normal? I don't wanna be stuck here forever! **I wanna go home! I wanna go home!**"_

_"I know, Mattie, I know. I wanna go home, too, but..."_ Alfred shook against Matthew's slightly lither-than-his body. _"There_ is _no home for us to go back to anymore..."_

Matthew picked his head up from his brother's shoulder and looked him in the eye. _"Is there... is there any chance that America can still prevail?..."_

Alfred, with a knit in his brow, slipped his eyes closed. "I don't know. We don't know what's happened to the world as we know it since we were captured." When he opened his eyes and looked into blue orbs identical to his own, he then did his best to give a brave smile. "But, America is the greatest country in the world. Maybe someday... someday, we can go back, and we'll be in the land of the free again."

Matthew, sniffling, started to hiccup, and did his best to try blinking away his never-ending streams of tears. Alfred then lifted his hands up to Matthew's face and cupped his cheeks in his hands. Alfred's thumbs started to wipe away his tears, and Matthew's face dusted a light pink as he hiccuped. _"Brother..."_

_"Mattie..."_

And then, Alfred did something that he hadn't done since him and Matthew were alone, all too many months ago.

He kissed his little brother.

* * *

**_To Be Continued..._**

* * *

**_BEFORE ANYONE GETS ON MY CASE FOR PAIRING ALFRED AND MATTHEW TOGETHER, SHUT UP AND BE PUT AT EASE. _**As the story goes on, you'll see why and how this even happened in the first place. It is not a permanent relationship, but trust me it isn't just kids being stupid, either.

Yes, I felt the need to put a second note about this at the end of the chapter like at the beginning. I've yet to touch onto the subject of how they even began this little enterprise to begin with, but it will be covered later on in the story.

Anyways guys, thanks once again for reading, faving, following, and reviewing! It is all highly appreciated like you don't even know~

So please, continue reading, faving, following and reviewing! Reviews help me feel motivated to update, so go ahead and write me a few little lines!~ _Danke, mein lovelies!_


	4. Chapter 3: It's Hard Work

Hey there guys, one more update before I go to once-a-week postings. I'll either post new chapters on Fridays, Saturdays or Sundays from here on out, so I won't run out of material to post so quickly.

Thank you all, as always, for reviewing, reading, etc., and any corrections to Russian and French are always welcome as I am no expert, and Google only goes so far.

Enjoy~

* * *

**_Chapter 3: It's Hard Work_**

* * *

Toris smiled and gave a friendly wave as Alfred and Matthew made their way down the large, red-carpeted stairs. "Hello, I'm Toris, which you probably remembered, but I thought I'd introduce myself anyway!"

After reaching the bottom step, Alfred, who had left his bomber jacket upstairs, as Matthew had left Kumajiro up there as well, simply said, "Hey."

Matthew, likewise, could only muster up a quiet, _"Hi."_

"Don't be so scared," Toris said, planting one of his hands on his hip. "I know my uncle can be quite intimidating and scary at times, but as long as you stay on his good side, don't break any of his things, and treat him with respect, he'll be all buddy-buddy with you in no time."

Alfred simply dead-panned and said, "_Sure, whatever..._"

"Listen," Toris leaned down slightly so as to be eye-to-eye with the two fifteen year-olds. "Don't go around saying this all willy-nilly or anything, but, even if my uncle bought you, that doesn't mean we're going to treat you like trash. Human beings are human beings to me; I'll do what I can to train you two and I'll help you out if you ever need me. I'm happy to do it; it's my way of paying Uncle back in the first place."

Alfred, though he had been unsure of the Russian at first (since he was a Braginski, after all) somehow found Toris' words slightly reassuring. He then simply nodded once, saying, "_Okay._"

"_Merci_, Toris." Matthew said.

"Okay then!" Toris placed one hand atop of Matthew's head and said, "Alfred," Then he placed his other hand atop of Alfred's. "Matthew. Let's get to work!"

Somehow, the twins then managed to begin giggling. Toris blinked, asking what was so funny, before Alfred said, "He's not Alfred, I am!"

"_Mon Dieu_, I never thought we'd be mixed up again before!" Matthew said through a stitch.

Toris soon took his hand off of them and rubbed the back of his head. "_A-ah_, s-sorry... I'll try to be more diligent on telling who is who!"

"_**Toris,**_"

The young brunette man startled into standing up straight before he turned around, facing his elder brother who stood only a few paces away.

"Stop slacking off. Lunch will be in about an hour and a half, and they have a lot to learn. Start them off now." Eduard stated.

**_"Yes, Brother! Understood, Brother!"_** Toris said, bowing in apology as Eduard turned and headed down the hallway. A few moments later he then turned back to the twins and said, "Alright then, you two. **_Let's get to work!_**"

The three, after arming themselves with bandannas to keep the hair out of their faces, as well as aprons to keep their clothes from getting too dirty, were soon off and, to start them off, Toris gave them a short tour of the downstairs area. He showed them through the hallways, to the closets where various cleaning supplies were kept for different tasks, to the dining room and the kitchen, Raivis' indoor playroom, the downstairs study, the laundry room, and of course, the foyer and the parlor, which they had seen when they first arrived.

"The plants in the halls have to be watered every two days, and the paintings and pictures must be dusted every two days as well. And laundry should be done every day. Don't bother folding Raivis' things because he just makes a mess of everything anyways. Eduard does most of the cooking, sometimes our mother does it or helps. I set the table and wash the dishes. We'll at least keep those jobs for now." Toris pointed to a closet as they passed it by. "The vacuum is in there, and the entire house needs to be vacuumed at least every three days, sometimes two. The windows only need to be washed once a week, because there's a lot of them and they're a bit of a chore. The dining room table should be wiped down with a wet cloth after every meal, and the floor needs to be mopped twice a week. The kitchen is cleaned up after every use, so you don't need to worry about that."

"Do the floors ever need to be hand-scrubbed?" Alfred asked bluntly.

Toris faltered for a moment and almost asked why he said that, but then shook his head and said, "No, the floors are almost never hand-scrubbed. Only if we're hosting a party or have guests coming over is that ever done. Uncle Ivan takes pride in his house when it's all spic-and-span."

"Probably because he's never been the one who has to clean it." Alfred replied.

Toris simply laughed at that and they continued on their way.

* * *

The twins did their best to work through their ever-apparent hunger, and an agonizing hour and a half later, Eduard called out into the hallway from the dining room, **_"Everyone, lunch is ready!"_**

Before Toris could tell either of the twins what to do before they were off to eat, they had just as quickly dropped their rags and duster before he could compose a thought.

"Hungry much?" Eduard asked with an arched eyebrow when the boys practically stumbled into the room.

"Don't tease them, Brother. They're learning quick!" Toris said as he walked in after them.

"Normally the first person in here is-" Eduard cut himself off when Toris let out a shriek as their youngest brother raced inside past him. "Raivis."

A bit of the normal Alfred began to shine through when he placed his hands on the table and leaned toward the platter where freshly-made hamburgers sat next to a basket of hamburger buns and condiments. "_Dude_, I am _so **freakin' hungry!**_ Can we eat, now?"

"Sure thing, help yourself." Eduard replied. As soon as he said it, Alfred and Matthew scurried to a pair of chairs and sat down as Toris helped Raivis up into a chair across from them. Eduard headed to the door and said, "I'll go tell Uncle that lunch is ready."

"Is Mother back yet?" Toris questioned as he tucked a napkin onto the front side of Raivis' shirt.

"_Nyet_, she won't be back until this afternoon."

Matthew blinked as he watched Alfred assemble his first hamburger in ages; he piled two patties onto one bun and topped it with a tomato, onions, a lettuce leaf and a more than generous amount of ketchup. To his shock, he even noticed how Alfred completely ignored the fresh French fries made as a side dish in favor of beginning to show his rather carnal side. **_"M-maple leaf, Alfie! Don't eat too fast, or you'll get sick!"_**

Alfred, already having taken a large first bite attempted to verbalize a reply to his little brother but it was no use, as everything came out garbled.

_"Maple leaf..."_ Matthew sighed, hanging his head... only to cave in a moment later and finally pick up his own assembled burger and finally take a bite. Despite his own advice for his elder brother, he soon found himself eating very quickly and before he knew it, they had both scarfed down their burgers.

Toris simply stared at them, and Raivis ate a cut-up patty and fries without a care in the world with a fork. "What did they feed you at the detainment center?..."

"Just enough." Matthew answered quietly, his head hung as he sweat-dropped.

"**_God_**, I **_don't care_** if I get sick, **_that was totally worth it!_**" Alfred said. "Plain old bread and cheese can suck it 'cos I've missed hamburgers so much that I've been **_dreaming_** about them!"

"W-well, this time try to eat it a little slower..." Toris suggested with a sheepish smile. "I-if you haven't eaten much for a while, gorging yourself will just make you throw up later..."

"Is there even enough for us to have more?..." Matthew asked while Alfred didn't even bother to wait and was already preparing another.

"Yeah, Eduard made a lot of them, so don't worry, but just take it slow."

This time, both of them prepared their hamburgers much slower. By the time they began to eat again, Ivan entered the dining room, followed by Eduard. "_Privet,_" Ivan greeted.

"Welcome, Uncle!" Toris greeted as he cut up another patty for Raivis to eat.

"I'm surprised," Eduard commented as he pulled out the empty chair next to Toris as Ivan situated himself at the head of the table, requesting that the food be passed their way. "I was expecting clean plates by the time I got back."

"Oh, they're already on burger two." Toris replied.

"Eduard, would you get me my vodka?"

Eduard moved from the chair he pulled out and was just about to sit down in and said, "Yes Uncle, right away."

"_Spasibo._"

Toris blinked at his uncle as he placed Raivis' plate back in front of him. "Isn't it a little early to be drinking, Uncle?"

"I drink with lunch sometimes." Ivan stated as he placed a hamburger onto a bun and placed the bun on top without adding anything but a lone slice of cheese.

"Do you? I don't remember it so well..."

As Eduard returned from the kitchen with an unopened bottle of vodka in his hands, Ivan said, "Have a drink with me, boys."

"Oh Uncle, I couldn't possibly!" Toris began, holding up his hands in defense. "I still have a lot to do with the twins and I'd like to have my whits about me when I-"

"One glass won't kill you." Ivan replied.

Toris sighed, figuring his uncle wouldn't take no for an answer. "O-okay then, Uncle."

**_"Can I try some?!"_** Raivis asked with his hand up in the air and ketchup all over his face.

"_Nyet_, it is not for little children." Ivan said before he landed his eyes on Raivis' face. "My boy, that is not very dignified." Toris blinked as Ivan rose up and approached his youngest nephew, plucking the napkin from his shirt and using it to wipe his face clean. "There we go, _da_."

"_Spasibo,_ Uncle!" Raivis pipped after he was clean again.

Ivan sat back down, after which Eduard poured him a glass of vodka. He then poured two more, one for him and one for Toris, before he sat back down. Ivan, without initiating a toast, hoisted his glass up and gulped down half of it right off the bat. When he placed it back down, he let out a quiet, "_Ah, osvezhayushchiy._" ("Ah, refreshing.")

Alfred quietly mumbled, "_Soûlard,_" ("Drunk"/"Drunkard") behind his burger before he took a rather large bite.

He swallowed and then flinched when Ivan's large hand held out his half-full glass in front of him, and he blinked when he laid eyes on Ivan, who asked him, "Would you like to give it a try, Fredka?"

**_"U-Uncle, he's just a child!"_ **Toris stuttered.

"Not as much of one as Raivis is, _da_." was Ivan's counter-argument.

"_No, thanks._" Alfred said, turning his head away before he took another bite of his hamburger and so-very-elegantly crammed a few fries in his mouth along with it.

"Just as well; you drink the strong stuff, Uncle." Eduard commented.

"Is it really a good idea to get them drunk on their first day here?" Toris asked, giving his uncle a baffled face.

"Who says I am trying to get them drunk, _da?_"

_"Soûlard..."_ Alfred mumbled again.

* * *

After lunch, the twins returned to cleaning the hallway. They were a little slow-moving, however, so Toris had said, "Maybe they should go lie down-"

"_Nyet_, it is their own fault if they get sick." Ivan said, cutting him off. "The house will not clean itself."

"Uncle, go easy on them-"

"I am the one who calls the shots around here, Toris. Remember that." Ivan said, cutting him off again. "They must learn their lessons on their own, _da_. Do not baby them, it will get them nowhere."

Toris simply sighed and bowed. _"Yes, Uncle..."_ He made sure Alfred and Matthew were alright for a few minutes before he went off to clean up his baby brother so he could go back to playing.

_"I-"_ Matthew was cut off by his own hiccup as he dusted a picture frame. _"I think my tummy is going to implode..."_

"Just keep pacing yourself for now, Mattie..." Alfred replied. "If you get sick, sneak upstairs and lie down. I'll cover for you."

_"I'm so **stupid**..."_ Matthew whined. _"But... I was **so hungry!**... I couldn't help myself..."_

"Don't worry about it," Alfred insisted. "I wasn't any better. We both just did what we really needed to do..."

Matthew lowered the duster from the frame. _"I know..."_

He gasped quietly when Alfred's arms came up from behind him. _"Mattie... don't worry about a thing. Even if it's you and me against the world from here on out... I'll always be here to protect you. I promise."_

_"Alfie..."_ Matthew uttered, lifting his hands up and placing them onto his twin's arms.

Later on, after over-stuffing themselves at dinner, and aiding Toris in a final load of laundry, the twins were relieved of their duties for the night and immediately they retired to the bedroom Ivan showed them to that afternoon. Instead of separating and going into the adjacent room, Matthew stayed with his brother, who didn't mind in the least. Together, after changing into twin sets of flannel plaid pajamas, they simply threw their dirty clothes onto the floor without a second thought in the world before they collapsed into bed together.

_"Man..."_ Alfred sighed as they crawled beneath the covers. _"I've never felt so sore before..."_

_"Mm,"_ Matthew agreed, holding Kumajiro and snuggling closely to Alfred's chest. They had placed their respective glasses on the two night tables and met in the middle of the bed, staying closely to each other, as they did on most nights.

Back in America, though there was a spare room, they shared a bedroom ever since they were born. They had separate beds, but most nights they wound up sleeping in the same bed together, as they had always done so as children. Their parents simply thought it was adorable that they were so close and never did anything to correct the behaviour. So while they were imprisoned, it was second nature to them to share living quarters with one another. To put things simply, they were used to it. Old habits died hard.

Matthew blinked when his nose nuzzled against Alfred's fleur-de-li, and his forehead wrinkled in sadness. Alfred sensed what was wrong and wrapped his arms around Matthew tightly, though they ached so very badly. _"Everything's going to be okay, Mattie."_

Matthew planted an affectionate kiss on Alfred's chest, as his head was stuck resting there from their position. _"I hope so, Brother..."_

That night, as they fell asleep, they sang the Russian lullaby that soothed them so while they were imprisoned. For a moment, it was almost like they were back in that same cell with their parents.

They lulled themselves to sleep, hoping that tomorrow would be a better day.

* * *

**_To Be Continued..._**

* * *

... And that's all for now! Next chapter, along comes Katyusha. I wasn't able to squeeze in her appearance in this chapter or the previous one, so she'll appear in the next one.

From here on out, I'm only updating once a week. Since it's close to the weekend already I may not update until next week, just to leave you guys hanging for a little while. ;P But don't worry, there's plenty more where this came from! Right now I'm working on chapter 13 and hope to complete that either tonight or by tomorrow. Once I have the entire story finished, I may bump updates up to twice a week if I feel generous enough.

But anywho, by next week I'd like the review count to be somewhere between 10 and 15. That'll motivate me to post the next one sooner rather than later~

Anyways, thank you for reading, and I'll see y'all next week! :3

_P.S.: The chapter title comes from a song on the Spirited Away soundtrack, just in case you were wondering._


	5. Chapter 4: The First Morning, Part 1

Hey there guys, it's been over a week and now it's time for the next installment! :) In which Katyusha appears... and the hintings of IvanxAlfred start~

Now then, as always, enjoy!~ :3

* * *

**_Chapter 4: The First Morning, Part 1_**

* * *

Though the sun shined into the twins' shared bedroom, it did nothing to stir them from their well-deserved, deep sleep. The curtains in front of the large window hadn't been shut the night before in their hastiness to go to sleep, but even with the bright rays of light casting themselves onto the bed, they were undisturbed.

However, when they were rousing, this changed.

**_"Ah, so they are both in here! I was right!"_**

Crinkling his brow in sleepiness, Alfred squinted his eyes open and rolled over to determine the cause of the noise by the bed. He was soon greeted by a large, jiggling pair of breasts covered by a shirt.

**_"Ah, good, they are waking up!"_**

Alfred blinked once, moaning tiredly as he muttered, _"What the heck is going on?..."_

_"Mm... maple..."_ Matthew cooed in his sleep, turning onto his back with his hands resting on either side of head cutely.

Alfred reached his hand over to the bed side table, feeling for his glasses and grabbing them when he felt them. He placed them onto his nose and looked at who was by their bedside again. He gasped, flinched and then quickly scooted closer to the center with a yelp, bumping his back into Matthew's side.

A woman with short hair the same shade of silvery-blonde that Ivan possessed smiled at them, giving a polite wave and a smile as she said, "Good morning, boys."

**_"Wh-wh-w-wh-who are you and what the heck are you doing in our room?!"_ **Alfred asked, doing his best not to stare at her chest.

"I am Katyusha Braginksi, Ivan's big sister." the woman responded with a smile. Her body only moved slightly, but her boobs still jiggled as a result, making Alfred question if she was even wearing a bra. "Good morning to you, boys!"

All of a sudden, the events of the day prior to this one came flooding back to Alfred; though he had been somewhat consciouslly aware of what had happened, it had all made its way into the back of his mind when he had fallen asleep. He blinked once, and untensing he said, "O-oh, right... I forgot... Master Ivan mentioned he had a sister yesterday."

"_Da_, that is me!" Katyusha replied with a smile and another jiggle of her boobs. "I didn't come home until very late last night, so I didn't get a chance to properly introduce myself to the both of you until now."

_"Ma...ple..."_ Matthew cooed, turning onto his side and against Alfred's back. _"Mm... Alfie you talking in sleep again..."_

"Now then, wakey wakey, both of you!" Katyusha said, unshyly leaning past Alfred to begin shaking Matthew by his shoulder. "It is time to prepare breakfast with me, _da?_" Matthew hummed again as his eyes slipped open, upon which his gaze landed on Katyusha's bust. He blinked, flinched and yelped and before he could collect together a single thought, Katyusha was standing up straight again and smiled. "Come now, the early bird catches the worm, _da, malyshi._"

_"Early bird?..."_ Alfred questioned as Matthew reached for his glasses, placing them on his nose and landing his gaze back on the Russian woman.

"_Da_, it is quarter after six already. Come now - let us prepare breakfast!" Katyusha said, holding up a fist in triumph, making her boobs jiggle again.

"I thought that Toris said Eduard does all of the cooking." Matthew quietly said, keeping one of his arms tight around Kumajiro.

"This morning I am, and Ivan requested that you help me." Katyusha replied, folding her hands in front of herself. Her boobs became sandwiched between her upper arms, and without seeming to even notice it they became squeezed together and appeared to be much more prominent. "Everyone needs to know how to cook, and I would appreciate the help very much, little ones!"

Alfred then bowed his head in obedience and said, "Yes Mistress, understood."

"_Oh **poo**,_" The twins blinked when Katyusha placed a hand onto each of their cheeks. They blinked identical blue eyes up at her kind face as she said, "Come now, I am nobody's mistress. You can just call me Katyusha, _da?_"

"But Ivan said-" Matthew was cut off.

"Ivan may be boss of you, but I am not. Okay?" The Russian woman smiled when the boys both nodded. "Good boys!" She then pat them each atop of the head. "Now then, get dressed and we'll get started on breakfast in ten, _da?_"

The boys each managed to smile themselves as they each gave a nod.

* * *

After dressing themselves in clean, identical sets of the same attire they wore the day before, the twins stepped out of their room to find Katyusha standing there, patiently waiting for them with her hands folded behind her back. She kept smiling brightly to them as she bid them another friendly greeting and a wave that wiggled her breasts before leading the way downstairs. On their walk with Katyusha, the twins had a small back-and-forth with each other in French about how neither of them had ever willingly woken up this early before; they were shocked that the sun was even up already at such an early hour, but they supposed that since Russia was an entirely different country that there were a lot of things they would need to get used to.

Upon entering the dining room, the boys were surprised to see Ivan already awake and dressed, sitting at the head of the table casually sipping a cup of coffee (which Alfred suspected had a splash or more of vodka in it) while reading the newspaper. Katyusha then said cheerily, "Good morning, Little Brother! Did you sleep well last night?"

"Undisturbed with pleasant dreams." Ivan replied before he turned the page. "You got in late last night, _da?_"

Standing next to Ivan's chair, Katyusha gave a sheepish smile and rubbed the back of her head. "_Da_, I got lost driving through the country roads again..." She then gave a small chuckle before she said, "Even with that GPS-what-cha-ma-call-it you gave me."

Ivan sighed, lifting one of his hands to pinch the bridge of his nose. "How many times to I have to tell you to call me when you get lost? I will come and pick you up!"

"Oh Brother, don't worry so much!" Katyusha said, not hesitating in the least to wrap her arms around her brother's neck and pet the top of his head. Ivan lowered his newspaper at this, giving Alfred and Matthew full view of what was happening; Katyusha, who obviously had no idea just how large and voluptuous her breasts were, was hugging her brother's head tightly, and her large appendages parted around the side of his head, effectively blocking off his left eye. "Vanya, you worry about me too much. I am big girl and can take care of myself!"

"Obviously not, why else would you be here with me?"

"Oh, you kidder." Katyusha teased as she let Ivan go, lightly tapping her fist onto his head when she freed him.

Alfred simply blinked and muttered, "_Et j'ai pensé ce matin ne pouvait pas être plus étrange, Mattie._" To which Matthew simply nodded to. ("And I thought this morning couldn't get any weirder, Mattie.")

Ivan, as he reached for his newspaper again, soon landed his eyes on the twins and asked, "Is that any way to show respect to your master? Say good morning to me properly!"

In a panic, the boys then repeated the mirror-image curtsy they had performed the day before when being introduced to Eduard and Toris. Along with it, they said with as much enthusiasm as they could find (which was minute, compared to the amount of fear they held), **_"Good morning to you, Master Ivan!"_**

"Much better, _da. Privet i dobroye utro tozhe, mal'chiki._" Ivan nodded curtly to dismiss them before he picked up his coffee cup and took another sip. ("Hello and good morning to you too, boys.")

"Come now Ivan, go easy on them." Katyusha said with a pout. "They're only children."

"They're old enough to me." He then landed his harsh violet eyes on the twins again, immediately feeling a swell of pride in his chest when he noticed them suddenly quake beneath his gaze. "Now then, off to kitchen with you, _da?_ Breakfast does not make itself and I expect you to help my dear sister in every way you can, _da_. She has bad back."

Alfred sighed, but none the less bowed alongside Matthew and answered for them both. "_Yes, Master._"

"And do not even think for a moment of skipping chores after breakfast, _da?_" Ivan questioned them as they followed Katyusha toward the door to the kitchen.

"_Oui oui,_ Mistress." Alfred retorted.

He soon regret his slip of the tongue when Ivan grasped him by his frock, messing up the bow on the ribbon around the collar. Ivan pulled Alfred closely to his chair and, locking his eyes with frightened blue orbs, he asked, **_"What did you just say?..."_**

_"A-a-a-ah, ahahaha... sorry, I'm just sleepy I didn't-"_

Alfred flinched when Ivan lifted his free hand, as if to strike him. After a moment, he cracked an eye open to dare and look at the Russian man. Ivan simply gave a chuckle from the bottom of his throat and said, "That's what I thought." He then shoved Alfred away, causing him to nearly stumble into and knock over Katyusha. **_"Now go!"_**

After entering the kitchen with the big-breasted Russian woman and his brother, Alfred did his best to try and keep his mouth shut. It was far too early for him to be functioning, and suddenly his aches from the day before were beginning to fade into his limbs. Every time he started to wish it was all a dream, he did his best to listen to the little voice in his head, whispering and reminding him time and time again: _"At least you're not still locked up in jail."_

As Katyusha laid out all of the ingredients for breakfast on the counter, Alfred and Matthew armed themselves with aprons and bandannas again and retrieved two frying pans and spatulas at the woman's request. "Now then, what kind of pancakes would you like, boys? Or would you prefer waffles?"

An excited gleam appeared in Matthew's eyes and he let out a squeal as he answered for them both, **_"Pancakes, pancakes, pancakes!"_**

Katyusha let loose an amused laugh from her abdomen, covering her mouth with one hand at the younger twin's sudden enthusiasm. "I take it you like pancakes then, _da?_"

"**_Oui, oui!_** I could eat them for breakfast, lunch and dinner and dessert! I'd drink maple syrup by the bottle if I could!" Matthew pipped.

Alfred let out a quiet laugh at his brother's excitement. Just as he had been excited for hamburgers the day before, Matthew was perhaps excited ten-fold for the prospect of his favorite food of all time. Honestly, Alfred swore he couldn't remember what maple syrup tasted like.

Katyusha smiled and said, "I have a feeling you will love the syrup we have, _da_. Ivan and I make it ourselves from the maple trees on our property!"

Matthew's jaw dropped open with a stutter. **_"M-maple leaf! Fresh maple syrup?! Maple leaf!~"_**

In the forty-five minutes it took to prepare breakfast, the boys found themselves energizing themselves and their spirits were lifted by the ever-friendly Katyusha Braginski. They mixed the batter like experts, as with Matthew's life-long craving for pancakes it was necessary to know how to make them. As they drizzled them into the heated frying pan in heat circles, they also sprinkled in blueberries, bits of strawberries and chocolate chips into some of them while leaving the rest plain. When Eduard and Toris arrived downstairs, they were surprised to see their mother and the two new servants already taking care of preparing the morning meal. However, they took the plates and cutlery and went to go set the table, telling their uncle that breakfast would be ready shortly.

Just a few minutes later, Alfred pushed open the two-way kitchen door with his back as he carried the platter full of pancakes; mainly because he didn't trust Matthew alone with them and feared they'd get in trouble if he ate all of them, and because he was just a tad less clumsy than his twin brother. Matthew followed after him, carefully stepping slowly as he balanced a plate full of sausages and bacon as Katyusha brought up the rear, carrying in the jug of fresh maple syrup.

After setting down the platter of pancakes behind Ivan's newspaper, Alfred straightened up and said, "Breakfast is ready, sir."

"_Hm,_" Ivan hummed, folding his newspaper closed and setting it down. "So it is."

Trying to stay on Ivan's better side after his earlier slip-up, Alfred then bowed his head down and folded his hands in front of himself. "We apologize if it isn't to your liking; it's been a long time since Matthew and I have cooked anything."

"It surprises me in the first place that a spoiled brat like you even knows how to cook in the first place, _da_." Ivan commented before he took a final drink from his coffee cup.

Matthew flinched and immediately slunk his arms around his brother's torso, effectively pinning his arms to his sides as Alfred began to growl and, pulling him away from Ivan's chair, he quickly muttered into his twin's ear: "_Juste faire semblant que vous n'avez pas entendu que, Frère._" ("Just pretend you didn't hear that, Brother.")

Alfred's brow quirked for a few moments before he untensed, sighed an said, "_Très bien._" ("Fine.")

Matthew unwound his arms from Alfred with a quick reply of, "_Bon._" ("Good.")

Without a hitch, breakfast was soon served and, after everyone else had selected their pancakes, they were passed from Katyusha to Matthew, who sat by her side. "Don't be shy; take as many as you need! Growing boys need to eat, after all."

"_Merci, Madame Katyushka._" Matthew said with a polite bow and a smile before he and Alfred began to pick out their pancakes.

"Sister, do not baby the help." Ivan said with a sigh as he cut his simple stack of two pancakes."

"Oh come now Vanya, dear, they're still just children." Katyusha replied with another laugh.

"So, Uncle," Toris began, as if trying to segway the conversation from being a fight between brother and sister. "You're nicely dressed for an early Sunday morning. What's the occasion?"

"Was called late last night; need to meet with an associate after breakfast, _da_." Ivan replied.

Alfred and Matthew each gave a quick, surprised blink after hearing Toris' question. So it was a Sunday. At least they now knew that.

"So boys, do you have any plans for today?" Katyusha asked.

"_Da_, Mother." Eduard replied, placing down his mug of coffee. "I have a study group at the library. I'll try to be home in time to start lunch on time."

"No need to, dear, I can start on it in case you're late."

"_Nyet_, Mother, you relax today. You were gone all of yesterday and now to be up so early to help with breakfast..."

"Come now, boys. You mother is not made of glass, _da?_" Katyusha replied with a chuckle. She then turned her head to Toris and asked, "What about you, my dear?"

"Ah, I have a bit of studying to do after I train the twins a bit more." Toris replied.

Alfred coughed after chewing and swallowing a rather large bite of pancakes, punching himself in the chest before he reached for his cup of orange juice and took a drink.

"Pace yourself, kiddo." Eduard said without looking up from his plate.

Matthew then sheepishly looked up from his cleaned plate with a quiet stutter. _"E-eh, well..."_

"Here, here," Katyusha picked up more pancakes with the serving fork and placed them onto Matthew's plate before doing the same with Alfred. "Eat up, _mal'chiki_." ("boys.")

_"Merci, merci, Madame!"_ Matthew pipped quietly.

Ivan simply rolled his eyes and popped a piece of sausage into his mouth.

"_Mattie, il goûte si bon~_" Alfred muttered with his mouth full. ("Mattie, it tastes so good~")

"_Je sais; il suffit de me noyer dans le sirop frais en ce moment... laissez-moi mourir heureux!~_" ("I know; just drown me in fresh syrup right now... let me die happily!~")

"If either of you get sick from eating too much, you're cleaning up your own messes." Ivan stated.

"Come now. Brother. Show some compassion." Katyusha tried to persuade.

"_Nyet_, they have work to do today. As do I."

Alfred poked a few pieces of cut-up pancake onto his fork and mumbled, "_N'aimez-vous pas juste la façon dont il parle de nous comme si nous ne sommes même pas ici?_" ("Don't you just love how he talks about us like we're not even here?")

Matthew, with his fork hanging from his lips, simply gave a quiet, sheepish laugh in response before he and Alfred continued to eat. Home-cooked food was a God-send after months of simple bread, cheese and water.

"Let's see..." Toris began, thinking aloud as he cut up his pancakes and sausage. "What chores need to be done today..."

"I compiled list for the twins, _da_." Ivan replied without missing a beat.

"_Ne pereuserdstvuyte s nimi, Brat._" Katyusha told him. ("Go easy on them, Brother.")

"_Kak ya otnoshus' k moyey sobstvennost'yu yavlyayetsya ko mne, Sestra._" Ivan responded. ("How I treat my property is up to me, Sister.")

"What do you want us to do, wash the floors with toothbrushes?" Alfred asked.

"Ask and you shall receive, Fredka. Do not push my buttons." Ivan warned with a single glare, immediately making Alfred shrink down and shut his trap again. "Let's see... I need each bathroom to be cleaned; tubs, sinks, toilets and floors scrubbed. Hallways need vacuuming, wood floors need mopping, and the hallway to the vestibule needs waxing. My office also needs a bit of attention; dust it, sweep, clean the windows, and do not mess up or move anything on my desk, _da?_"

Alfred, leaning his head against one of his hands, brought his fork to his mouth with his other hand and nodded.

"Give me verbal response, Fredka, Matvei."

Ivan's threatening tone resulted in the twins both flinching for the umpteenth time and saying in unison, **_"Yes, Master!"_**

* * *

Both of the boys over-stuffed themselves at breakfast, and upon following Toris out of the dining room after they cleaned up, found themselves being halted by their Russian owner's deep, powerful voice. "Hang on." The twins turned around, doing their best not to look physically ill from their bloated statuses. "One of you, come with me. I have a chore that needs one person, _da_."

Immediately, Matthew's brow furrowed in worry, so Alfred pat his hand on his twin's shoulder and said, "You follow Toris, I'll go."

Matthew, though he wanted to question why, was silenced by the determined look in Alfred's eyes; he figured his brother thought it was like a way to protect him. Instead, he merely nodded once then he turned to catch up with Toris.

"Good boy, _da_." Ivan praised in a neutral tone, giving the top of Alfred's head a single pet before he led the way down the hallway. "Follow me."

Alfred followed Ivan to the living room, upon where the Russian sat down in the arm chair nearby the fireplace. He then crossed his legs and, with a smirk, merely motioned with his hand for Alfred to approach him. Alfred fisted his hands in the skirt of his frock and bit his lower lip, but he then took the stroll that seemed so far off with the small steps he took to the arm chair. From virtually nowhere, Ivan produced a cloth and a can of shoe polish and half-carelessly tossed them to Alfred, who scrambled not to let the polish spill, luckily catching it while the cloth fluttered down to the floor.

"As I told Fredka and Matvei yesterday, I am very rich and very powerful man, _da_. Meaning I have to look my best when I go out." Ivan said, leaning one of his cheeks against his knuckles in a manner that almost seemed... elegant. Pretty, even. Alfred had to hold himself back from shaking his head for even thinking those thoughts about his master for a single moment. "I especially like to take care and see to it that my shoes never look scuffed, _da_."

Alfred, tightening his hands around the can of shoe polish, dared to ask, "Why don't you just do this yourself?"

"Because I pay good money for you. **_Now, polish!_**"

With a startle and a whimper, Alfred knelt down in front of Ivan and complied. Normally, he'd mentally kick himself in the ass over and over again for showing such weakness... but, once again, the little voice in the back of his head spoke. This time, it repeated the words his mother asked of him. **_"Soyez forts, soyez courageux, et être bon."_**

**_"Be strong, be brave, and be good."_**

**_"Be good."_**

He hated to admit it, but he was a mama's boy. He couldn't very well go against his mother's wishes.

With as much dignity as he could muster, Alfred lathered up Ivan's shoes in the black polish and rubbed them down with the rag like he'd seen in the movies set in the 1940's and 1950's; where there were shoe-shining stations with shoe-shine boys ready to give someone a shoe-shine for a fee. He tried his best to stay caught up in his thoughts, so as to ignore any snide comments or remarks from Ivan that the other might say. Soon enough, when he deemed his job done, he let the rag slip from Ivan's shoe and he mumbled, _"There."_

Alfred kept his head bowed down when Ivan leaned over to take a look at his work. His knees were starting to hurt and the heels of his own dress shoes were digging into his bottom. It didn't feel all too pleasant. "Not too bad, Fredka." Alfred flinched his head downward when Ivan's large hand came down atop of his hair. He bit his lip again, fisting his hands around the polish-ridden rag in his hands, trying not to let out a squeak or a whimper, or anything that would make him sound weak.

Ivan let out another deep, rumbling chuckle from his chest at his servant's response. "Is something wrong, _moy malen'kiy podsolnukh?_" ("my little sunflower?")

Alfred turned his head away and said, "_Non._ May I leave now?"

"_Da._"

Alfred rose back up onto his feet, grateful that the pressure on his knees and buttocks were now relieved, bowing before he turned to leave. However, he then startled out a yelp when Ivan's large arms wound themselves around his waist, pulling him backwards onto the Russian man's lap. The polish rag was knocked out of his hands and fell to the ground, soundlessly.

**_"What the - what the hell are you-"_**

_**"Hmmm,"**_ The hum rumbled from Ivan's chest as he wrapped one arm around Alfred's torso, keeping the other around his waist. "_Vy ne znayete, stepen' vozdeystviya u vas yest' na menya, moy mal'chik._" He smirked when he felt Alfred tremble against him. "_Tak sil'no, tak chto umyshlennoye, tak molody..._" He leaned in to Alfred's ear and whispered, _"A moy, chtoby pobedit'."_ ("You don't know the extent of the effects you have on me, my boy." "So strong, so willful, so young..." "And mine to conquer.")

_"Let go of me..."_ Alfred said, struggling in vain against Ivan's impossibly strong arms.

Ivan then chuckled again and, loosening his grip a bit, much to Alfred's glee, he addd, "_No ne seychas. Ne segodnya. Vy ne byli slomleny._" ("But not yet. Not today. You haven't been broken yet.")

_"What are you saying... **let me go!**"_ Alfred said, struggling against Ivan's grip as the man stood up. He soon blinked in surprise when the man simply stood him on his own two feet again, doing his best not to question the Russian as he then walked past him, exiting the parlor. Alfred, trying to keep track of his whirling head, soon bolted after him and followed him to the front door, calling after him, **_"Hey, what the hell was that all about?! Hey, I'm talking to you!"_**

He was the once again silenced by Ivan's mere stare when the man turned to him while buttoning his coat. He whimpered and hung his head, feeling pathetic as Ivan adjusted his scarf so that it rested above his coat; previously it had been occupied over his suit jacket. "I have business to conduct this morning, Fredka. I'll be gone for most of the morning, but I expect you to be busy with your chores when I return, _da?_"

Alfred simply nodded, folding his hands behind his back.

"Also," Alfred picked his head back up when Ivan began to speak again. "When I return, I will have a gift of sorts for you and Matvei."

Alfred's eyebrows arched up high onto his forehead. _"Gift?..."_

"After I give them to you, I will have a matter of rewards to dicuss with the two of you, _da?_" Alfred could tell by the look in Ivan's eyes that he wasn't in the mood to be questioned, so he simply nodded instead. Ivan smiled a rather childish smile that clashed with his sinister eyes, reached a hand over to Alfred again and patted the top of his head like a dog's. "Good boy. Now then, give your master a proper goodbye, _da?_"

Alfred simply nodded again, and when Ivan took his hand away he grasped the skirt of his frock again and, bowing forward with his eyes closed, spread his arms out slightly and said, "Have a good day, Master Ivan."

"_Spasibo_, Fredka." Ivan said in a tone of praise. "Be good while I'm gone."

With that, Ivan opened the door and stepped out into the bitter cold as a gust blew, causing the trailing ends of his scarf to fly in the breeze. As the door shut behind him, Alfred shuddered from the cold air that muscled its way inside during the moment the door had been open. He stood in the empty vestibule for several long moments before finally, he turned on his heels and ran down the hallway.

He wanted to do everything he could to forget what had just happened in the parlor.

* * *

**_To Be__ Continued..._**

* * *

... Eh, would you call that a bit of a cliffhanger? *_shrugs_* I dunno myself, but no worries. The next chapter will be up in a week~

As always, thank you everyone for reading, faving, following, reviewing and all of that! The total story views are already close to 1,000! O_O Wow guys, thank you so much!

And, if you'd like next week's update to be early, I have a goal for you guys! If the total reviews can go up to 15 or 20, I'll update earlier than I did this week.

And, as always, corrections to the Russian and French are welcome. Google Translate is not perfect.

Thank you for reading, and I'll see y'all next week!~ :3

_P.S.: Find an error? Feel free to point it out to me so it can be edited. Danke~_


	6. Chapter 5: The First Morning, Part 2

Hey there guys, this update's a little late. XD I've had a bit of a scrambled mind the past week, hence this being posted on technically Monday instead of the weekend, since it's past midnight right now. To make it up though I'll post next week's chapter on Friday or Saturday instead of Sunday or borderl-ining Monday again. XD Sound good?

Either way, thank you all as always for reading, following, and all of that good stuff.

Now then, **_onward with the chapter!~_**

_P.S.: Thank you guys so much for giving me 1,000+ views on this story! It means so much, I can't even full express it to you! Spasibo, spasibo!~_

* * *

**_Chapter 5: The First Morning, Part 2_**

* * *

Matthew was surprised at how silent his brother was when he joined up with him and Toris again. Quietly, in French, he asked what it was that Ivan had wanted, only to be told it was just a shoe-shine. When he furrowed his brow and tried to prod for more information, Alfred kept dodging the question and eventually he dropped it.

Alfred decided to take the less tedious job and began to clean one of the two downstairs bathrooms, which luckily didn't include bathtubs making his life a little bit easier then and there. Toris and Matthew started on the vacuuming, and Alfred did his best to occupy his mind with scrubbing and mopping so as to put the awkward moment from earlier behind him.

The young American lad honestly didn't know what to think of what happened. When him and Matthew began experiencing sexual awakenings, their parents educated them and told them that what was happening to them was perfectly natural. The twins had always been very close, and neither of them had ever really become interested in the opposite sex. Falling in love with and expressing physical love with another man felt more natural to them; perhaps it was because both of their parents were males. Women were pretty, but just didn't do it for them.

One night, the twins had decided to see what it would be like to experience sexual release with another person. When they began exploring one anothers bodies, nothing felt wrong and everything felt natural. While they couldn't bring themselves to perform the main event, they found themselves completely comfortable with foreplay and touching one another. They knew they loved each other very much and they knew they could trust one another; it was the reason why they were able to feel natural about it.

Alfred almost hated to admit that on more than one occasion, he found himself fantasizing about what it would be like if he and Matthew took things all the way. It was almost narcissistic of him to think that Matthew was beautiful because they were identical twins, but there were just some little differences between them and frankly, Matthew was the cutest thing in the world to him. He was his precious, adorable baby twin brother who blushed and squeaked and when he was embarrassed, turned light pink and would stutter, _"M-maple leaf..."_ If there were anyone in the world he could give his first time to and feel like he'd never regret it, he knew it would be with Matthew.

Our little hero hated even more to admit that these thoughts were surfacing because of the ever-confusing Russian who had purchased them to begin with. In the months before, he and his family had no idea what was going to become of them; if they were going to be kept and executed, or simply imprisoned for the rest of their natural lives, or sold off as they had been. Suddenly, so many thoughts and ideas were in his head that he couldn't keep track of what was even possible anymore.

One thing was still certain above all else, though: Alfred absolutely feared the Russian man. That thought alone was enough to keep him worried; he hadn't ever been afraid of anything before, except for ghosts.

Alfred, in the middle of carrying his bucket of cleaning supplies up the stairs, suddenly stopped and smacked his forehead with one hand. It was already that bad; Ivan had him scared for his life. That was exactly why he hadn't tried to run for it when he had bid his master goodbye at the front door.

He wasn't in America anymore. He wasn't free to think, speak or do anything on his own anymore. He was someone's property, and that brought about an entitlement to Ivan. That was the sort of power that scared him about the man.

Who knew what he could do to him.

"_Alfie?_"

Alfred snapped his head up from where he was bent over scrubbing the bath tub, straightened up and turned to the door where Matthew stood. "Yeah, Bro?" he questioned.

"Toris and I just finished the vacuuming, so I'll get started on the other bathrooms, _m'kay?_" Matthew said with a cock of his head.

"Mm, yeah, okay!" Alfred replied with a nod. It then just dawned on him that he had no idea what time it was; he was going to ask Matthew if he knew, but he figured he didn't have a clue, either.

Matthew nodded back and, lingering for a few more moments, he asked, "Are you sure you're okay, Brother? You seem a little preoccupied..."

"_Oui,_" Alfred did his best to insist. "I'm fine."

Matthew's brow furrowed once again, but he then said, "_D'accord._" He then turned on his heels and started down the hallway.

Alfred then turned back to the tub and hung his head, sighing as he did his best to pull himself together.

He didn't want to spend the entire day getting lost in his own head.

* * *

Alfred wasn't proud to admit he had half-fallen asleep while scrubbing beneath the sink. Especially when a blood-curdling scream came from down the hall where he knew Matthew had started on cleaning Ivan's office, startling his head to snap up and whack against the bottom of the hard object.

**_"MAAAAAAAAAPLLLLLLLE LEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAF!"_** came his younger brother's cry of distress as loud footsteps were heard scurrying down the hall.

**_"Mattie, Mattie!"_** Alfred called out as he scrambled to the door as a lump throbbed atop of his head. **_"What's the mat-"_** He then tripped over the skirt of his frock and fell onto his face in the hallway, letting out a cry when Matthew's feet ran into and tripped over him, landing atop of him. "Ugh..." Alfred whined in pain.

_"M-m-ma-ma-maple leaf..."_ Matthew whimpered as he shook and did his best to push himself up off of his elder twin's body. _"D-désolé, Frère..." _("S-sorry, Brother...")

"Boys, what's the matter? Why all of the noise?"

Alfred pushed himself up onto his aching knees as Katyusha and Toris came toward them. He soon found himself blinking at the covered breasts of the worried Russian woman, who knelt down in front of him and pat the top of his hurting head. "You sound like you saw a ghost!"

**_"I did!"_** Matthew wailed, flailing his arms as he stood up.

"Come on, there's no ghosts in this house." Toris said with an amused grin. "We've been here for five years and never saw any ghosts."

**_"But I did, I did - I saw a ghost, I saw a ghost!"_** Matthew insisted as tears flew down his cheeks in fear. "Wait okay no I didn't _see_ a ghost, **_but I felt it touch my leg!_**"

Matthew then shrieked again when he felt something brushing up against his leg and soon clung onto Alfred from behind when Katyusha stood them both up. **_"Maple leaf, it's gonna get me!"_** He then lifted up the back of Alfred's dress, making him yelp and surprised everyone present by trying to shove the upper half of his body beneath it. **_"Big Brother, hide me!"_**

**_"M-Mattie, let go of me!"_**

**_SLAM!_**

Katyusha and Toris were soon blinking at the boys, having fallen down onto the floor with Matthew hidden beneath Alfred's frock. _"Ow..."_ Alfred moaned with his face flat against the floor.

**_"What is going on here?"_**

All four of them suddenly blinked at the sound of Ivan's voice; Katyusha and Toris turned around and each gave a smile and greeting to their relative as Matthew struggled to pull himself out of Alfred's dress.

"Oh, welcome home, Brother! How did the meeting go?" Katyusha asked with a perky smile and jiggle of her large jugs.

"Fine, _Sestra_." Ivan then leaned over, picking Alfred up by the back of his dress when Matthew successfully extracted himself from it, making the boy struggle and scramble as the back of it was hoisted up, showing off the puffy bloomers that lay beneath the ridiculous article of clothing. "What are you doing on floor? Slacking off?"

**_"N-no-non, not at all, Master, I swear!"_** Matthew squeaked out, bowing over and over again in submission.

"_Da_, I can vouch for that, Uncle. They've been hard at work all morning since you left." Toris replied as he leaned over. "It's just that Matthew got a scare from this little guy when he was in the office."

Alfred and Matthew then both turned their heads as Toris straightened back up, holding a fluffy seal-point cat with light blue eyes in his arms, who gave a quiet meow. Matthew then blinked several times before he said, "_A cat?..._"

"Yeah, Pushka likes to hide out in Uncle's office most of the time, so we often forget that she's in there." Toris responded. "She must've fallen asleep under the couch again, I suppose."

"_Man_, I'm glad it wasn't a ghost..." Matthew said with a sigh of relief, holding his hand to his chest. "Ghosts really freak me out."

_"Like you're one to talk..."_ Alfred mumbled before he huffed. **_"Will you put me down already?!"_** Alfred asked, flailing his arms and legs as Ivan's iron grip refused to relent on the hold he had on his dress. **_"I don't like being man-handled!"_**

Ivan then took Alfred by complete surprise and simply dropped him, making the boy yelp in pain when he landed on his tailbone. Alfred bit his lip as more pain racked through his body, standing up and wobbling a bit as he smoothed out his clothes.

_"What the hell; is it beat on Alfred day or something?..."_ he mumbled in anger.

_"Chut, mon Frère."_ ("Hush, my Brother.") Matthew whispered.

Ivan, hoisting Pushka into his arms from Toris' own, then asked, "Has my office been cleaned, as I requested?"

**_"Oh, yes, it's almost done, Master!"_ **Matthew said with a bow before he turned on his heels and headed down the hallway again. **_"I'll just be a little while longer!"_**

"_Khorosho._" Ivan replied. ("Good.")

Before Alfred returned to the bathroom he was in the middle of cleaning, Ivan instructed for him to retrieve Matthew when he was finished with his current task and to meet him in the parlor. Alfred simply nodded to that and said, "_Yeah,_" before he turned and went back to the bathroom. He tried with all of his might to stay in his own head again as he finished scrubbing the floor, and luckily got through the rest of the task without getting much more sore than he was before.

Soon enough, the twins were heading downstairs and entered the parlor, where Ivan sat alone, reading a book with the news on.

Alfred, standing in front of Matthew, then said, "Master?"

Ivan picked up his head, looking at the twins from the corner of his eye. He then shut his book without marking his place and placed it down at his side before he lifted up his hand and motioned for them to come forward. "_Idi syuda._" he said as he did. ("Come here.")

They did as they were told and, upon standing themselves side-by-side in front of Ivan, the man leaned over and picked up a shopping bag he'd placed nearby his feet. He took out one, long, slim box and took off its lid, revealing a black collar sitting inside of it with a sapphire-blue gem stone fixated onto the front of it. "These are to show everyone that you are my property, _da_. I request that you wear them during the day, but I will permit you to remove them for bathing and sleeping, _da?_"

Just before Matthew could say or do anything to calm down his brother, Alfred fisted his hands and snapped at their master. **_"What the hell do you think we are, fucking dogs?! We may be your servants, but we're not fucking animals, you commie bastard!"_**

All of a sudden, Alfred's head turned to the side and he stumbled back a tad. Both of the boys let out a surprised screech at this, Matthew having lifted up his own arms in defense and flinching away from Ivan in fear. Alfred turned his head to Ivan, lifting his hands up to his left cheek; he could barely feel it now, like it was going numb. With as much pride as he could muster, he snarled his teeth and glared angrily at his none-too-please master.

"You _poor, pitiful child_." Ivan said in a rather condescending tone of voice. "How long will it take you to realize that I am one who calls the shots around here?" He uncrossed his legs and stood up, causing Matthew to cower away from him again. He lifted one hand again, making Alfred flinch his head away and squeeze his eyes shut. He then grasped the fifteen year-old by the chin, turning his head back and held onto him tightly. "In this country, you are below the status of a dog. A dog isn't just property. Dog is man's best friend. Here, you are worth less than the ground that dogs defecates upon." He squeezed Alfred's chin tightly, forcing him to open his eyes a little bit. "**_Have I made myself clear, Fredka?_**"

Alfred growled slightly, although it didn't threaten or effect Ivan at all. His brow creased in anger, before he shut his eyes again and spat out, **_"__Yes, sir.__"_** in a tone dripping with more hatred than he had ever felt before in his entire life.

Ivan then smirked, let him go, and pat him atop of the head again. "_Khoroshiy mal'chik._" ("Good boy.") he praised in his empowered tone. He felt a bit of pleasure swell in his chest when he heard Alfred let out another quiet snarl. He took even more pleasure in the fact that he was then clasping a collar onto the prideful youth's neck. "Be grateful, _da_; I get you collar that is strong like leather, soft like silk."

Half-heartedly, half-angrily, Alfred muttered, _"Thank you, Master."_

He was beginning to loathe this man even more now.

* * *

**_To Be Continued..._**

* * *

... And there we have it. I sort of have to post up this chapter and run, 'cos I have to go to bed soon and wake up early. So I don't have a proper authoress note this time, but I sort of believe that this chapter spoke for itself.

As always, corrections to the Russian and French are welcome, as Google Translate always botches up what you type in, unless you mess with it which is... ;A; **_VERY TEDIOUS WORK_**. Believe me.

Anyways, please review, favorite, follow, and all of that good stuff! I'm encouraged to post the next chapter early the more feedback I get.

_P.S.: The name of Ivan's cat, Princessa Pushka, is a combination of two Russian cat names, "Princessa" which means "Princess", and "Pushka" which means "Fluffy". I Googled common and popular Russian cat names and when I came across them both and put them together, Princessa Pushka was born. I made her a seal-point because I always wanted one when I was a kid. _XD_ Lame reason, I know, but I loved "Homeward Bound"._


	7. Chapter 6: Bath Time

Hey guys, chappy six now!~ It's more-so along the lines of bonus material, so I may post chapter 7 early, but probably not. Right now I'm going through some writer's block and am stuck in the middle of chapter 16 right now. I'm trying to stretch out what I have done already for as long as I can, but since I'm going to sit down and hopefully be able to work through the block this weekend, hopefully I'll get more done and maybe, if I finish the story soon (it'll probably have upwards around 30ish chapters, knowing how I work) I'll be able to update more than once a week.

Either way, thank y'all for reading as always, and if we can, I'd like to get the review count somewhere up to 20 by next week. I know I have more than enough readers to get it done, and I know it sounds like a cliche but I love hearing from you guys!

So if I get the review count up to 20, I'll update earlier than usual next week. Does that sweeten the deal for ya?

Anyways, thank you, and enjoy the chapter!~

* * *

**_Chapter 6: Bath Time_**

* * *

Later that night, as Alfred was stripping in his and Matthew's shared bedroom, as he dropped his frock down to the floor, the door opened without so much as a warning or knock. He jumped and scrambled backwards, luckily landing on the edge of the bed and bouncing upon it as a result. Ivan simply landed his eyes on the blonde boy and gave his odd, child-like smile as he greeted in an oddly, unnervingly friendly tone-of-voice: "_Dobryy vecher, Fredka._" ("Good evening, Fredka.")

**_"Who the hell comes into someone's room without even knocking first?!"_** Alfred exclaimed, having a difficult job looking threatening when all you were wearing was a pair of long bloomers.

"Is my house, _da_. Means it is also my room." Ivan replied.

Alfred simply huffed and turned his head away, crossing his arms and bringing attention the large bruise on his rib cage from the day before. "Whatever."

Ivan, crossing his arms, and yet not looking angry for once, then said, "I trust that you and Matvei will be bathing yourselves tonight? All I could smell during supper was the pungent stench of bathroom cleanser, _da_."

"You're the one who made us clean all of the bathrooms today, why should you be so shocked about that?" Alfred asked as he stood up and crossed to the dresser, where clean pajamas and underwear were stored. "And if you must know, Mattie's taking a shower right now and I'm going to bed."

"_Nyet_, you will bathe first." Ivan replied.

"Dude, you can boss me around and make me do your chores all you'd like, but after today, I just wanna fucking sleep!" Alfred said as he pulled out two clean pairs of pajamas and boxers, setting one of each on the dresser for Matthew.

Ivan then held up his hands in defeat. "Very well, Fredka. Very well. I cannot force you to take a shower."

"_Merci_, Master." Alfred mumbled in reply.

A few moments later, he was then taken by surprise when the Russian man snuck up on him and roughly grasped him around his torso. Alfred shrieked and yelped, beginning to struggle in his arms as he shouted, **_"H-hey, let me go you fuckin' vodka-drinking commie! I'll beat the daylights outta you you mother fuckin' idiot!"_**

Just then, Matthew came walking out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist and another atop of his head, which he was using to dry his hair with. "Brother, what are you screaming about?" he asked. And then he laid his eyes on Ivan hoisting his struggling-like-a-wild-boar-in-a-hog-tie brother off of his feet and toward the bathroom. He blinked, asking, "Master, what are you doing with my big brother?"

"Giving him bath." Ivan replied simply, as if it answered everything.

**_"Hell no, let me go! I just wanna sleep, you bastard! I swear, if you don't let me go I'll cry rape!"_**

Ivan then really freaked Alfred out by lifting one of his hands up to his face and cupping his cheek with it, half-turning his head to look at him as he cooed, "Come now, Fredka. I am not the dirty pervert that you think I am."

**_"How the hell am I supposed to believe that?!"_** Alfred snapped. He then blinked when he saw Matthew out of the corner of his eye, turning his head to get a better look at him. His twin, sans glasses, was barely holding up the towel around his waist with his small hips, and the way his wet hair hung around his face from beneath the towel he dried his head with, he looked feminine and far-too innocent with the way his wide, sky-blue eyes blinked at the scene in front of him curiously. **_"Mattie, put some clothes on!"_** he suddenly shrieked, waving a pointing finger in his brother's direction.

Matthew then blinked, let out a surprised yelp and scrambled over to the bed, lifting up the covers and crawling beneath them as a way to hide his exposed body from their master. "Matvei, no need to hide yourself from me." Ivan said, patting Alfred atop of his head with one of his large hands as said boy continued to struggle in his arms. "You are very beautiful boy, _da_."

**_"You keep your hands off of my baby brother, sale pervers!"_ **Alfred shouted. ("you pervert!")

Ivan simply turned Alfred's head again to lock his purple eyes with sky blue ones. "Do you see me touching him, _moy malen'kiy podsolnukh?_" ("my little sunflower?")

Alfred simply snarled again and said, _**"Let me go already! Is it a crime to want to sleep?!"**_

"If you take bath tonight, I will let you sleep in tomorrow morning." Ivan tried to persuade.

**_"I want to sleep now!"_**

Ivan then surprised Alfred again by dropping him from his arms. The boy startled out a yelp when he fell to the floor, feeling a little glad that his somewhat poofy bloomers took a little oomph out of the impact. He then blinked up Ivan as he saw the man heading to their bathroom door while rolling up his sleeves. "I will see to it that you are cleaned tonight, Fredka."

**_"Hell no! I will not let you wash me like a child, you pervert!"_** Alfred exclaimed, shaking his fists and stomping his feet upon standing back up.

Ivan, stopping in the bathroom door, looked over his shoulder and asked, "Will it make you feel better if I let you wash your _ding-dong_ on your own, little one?"

**_"YOU'RE A PEDO!"_ **Alfred shouted, his face turning beet-red.

"That does not answer my question, so it is your loss, Fredka." Ivan said before turning his head back. "I will run bath for you and I will see to it myself that you are bathed before the night is over, _da_. If you are in bed when I come to get you, you will be punished."

Alfred seethed as Ivan entered the bathroom and shut the door; shortly after he heard the water turn on. Matthew then came crawling out of the covers, poking his head out by the pillows before pulling himself out. Without going to get his pajamas, he soon set his feet down on the floor and quietly padded over to his brother, latching onto his arm. Alfred, snapping out of his anger mode, blinked and turned his head to Matthew, immediately locking his eyes with Matthew's identical ones. His gaze softened a bit at the look in Matthew's innocent eyes, and immediately he let out a sigh and wrapped his arms around his brother's semi-bare, yet still warm body. Matthew wound his slender arms around Alfred, quietly uttering, "Brother... don't be so difficult."

Alfred bit his lip at that. _"I can't let him take away what's left of my pride... if I let him break me, I'll never survive."_

"As long as we behave, he won't be so cruel to us." Matthew replied.

Alfred pulled away and placed his hands on Matthew's shoulders. "The world isn't as black and white as you think it is, Mattie. It's a lot darker than even I can realize... even in these times."

Matthew simply smiled, grasped onto Alfred's hands and wove their fingers together. "_Peu importe,j'aurais toujours foi en toi._" He gave Alfred's hands a gentle squeeze, lifting them up. "_Mon Superman._" He gave the backs of his older brother's hands each a kiss, sweetly and tenderly. He then leveled his gaze with Alfred's, lowered his tone and whispered, _"Si tu es sage avec le maître, alors ce soir je te traiterai bien."_ ("No matter what, I'll always have faith in you." "My Superman." "If you're good for Master, then, I'll treat you well tonight.")

Alfred found himself shivering at his younger brother's sultry suggestion, immediately swooned and charmed by the flawless French that Matthew and he had learned naturally from their parents as they grew up. It had been far too long since he and Matthew had been able to... please each other, so the offer was far too tempting to pass up.

Besides, how could one little bath hurt?

* * *

"Close your eyes, Fredka."

As Alfred closed his eyes and pursed his lips together, he wondered, _What in hell was I thinking?..._ Matthew could persuade him into doing virtually anything if he put his mind to it; he was conniving like their father in that way.

He felt the warm water pouring over his head, washing away the suds from his hair. He was then pushed to lean over slightly so Ivan could get the rest out. This had to be the most demeaning thing the man had done yet; topping even being handled like he was a child. Property, even, as Ivan kept calling him that.

"_Kogda na Zemle v posledniy raz vy ochishcheny sebya?_" Ivan mused aloud as he squirted body wash onto a pouf, beginning to lather it up. ("When on Earth was the last time you cleaned yourself?")

Alfred simply sighed, keeping his gaze averted, hating when the man spoke in Russian in front of him. How was it he expected the brothers to begin learning it in the first place?

Ivan then lifted up the soapy pouf and said, "Stand up, _da_. So I can clean you properly."

Alfred then glowered at him and said, "I can wash myself!"

"Not your back." Of _course_ the Russian had a comeback for that. Why wouldn't he?

Alfred sighed, turning slightly and sitting on his knees to expose his bare back to the Russian. "Fine. But I can do the rest!"

Ivan the muttered something in Russian again; "_YA ser'yezno somnevayus'chto._" Alfred didn't know what it meant. Probably something condescending. Again. ("I seriously doubt that.")

However, all the same, Ivan was soon scrubbing his back; albeit a bit rougher than he would have liked. Alfred found himself biting his bottom lip lightly at this to keep from making any weird sounds that would make him sound weak. His body trembled slightly beneath the older, stronger man's touches and he fisted his hands beneath the bubbles he was more-than-grateful to have covering his body in the warm, comforting water.

"You have very soft skin, Fredka." Ivan said in a quiet tone of voice, leaning over closely to Alfred's ear. The boy's red ears turned redder at this and he tightened his fists. "Almost like a baby's, _da_." He then let out a soft chuckle, taking great pleasure in the fact that he heard the boy's breath hitch at it. "Very fitting for you. You are almost as helpless as baby, _da_."

"_Tais-toi..._" Alfred muttered out through his gritted teeth. ("Shut up...")

Ivan let out another chuckle, this time in amusement. "Some even might go so far as to say that you are beautiful, _malyshka_." ("little one.")

Alfred's brain was too fried, his body too sore and too sleepy to even know how to deal with the present situation. He hoped that biting his tongue would be enough to keep his anger, and the man, at bay. What he was even keeping Ivan at bay from was beyond him.

Even after Ivan scrubbed his back, he couldn't get the man off of it.

Figuratively speaking, of course.

While he was able to get the Russian to turn around so he could stand up and wash the rest of his body himself, he couldn't get Ivan to leave him alone. Soon enough, when he sunk back down into the water to wash off the suds from his skin, he yelped when Ivan reached through the bubbles and the water and grasped his ankle, bringing it up from beneath the surface before he, rather casually, picked up the soapy pouf and began to scrub his feet and toes vigorously. When Alfred was finally about his wits enough, after being surprised by the other's sudden actions, he asked him what the hell he was doing, and Ivan merely replied, "I like to make sure that my property is always presentable, _da_."

Ivan sure did have a thing about keeping what was his neat, clean and "presentable", as he scrubbed the bottoms of the boy's feet before scrubbing between his toes, even going so far as so clean underneath his toe nails. Effortlessly, he then did the same thing to Alfred's other foot, and then to his hands.

"See? Was this so difficult, Fredka?" Ivan questioned as he let Alfred take his limb back again. The boy then just curled up in a ball, hugging his knees in the warm water and remained unresponsive. He then merely laughed lightly again. "_Takoy rebenok._ But very well then; I'll leave you be now." ("Such a child.") With one of his large, wet hands, he then patted Alfred atop of his head, feeling the boy's little cowlick, even soaked with water, carressing the palm atop of it. "I suppose you've also earned getting to sleep in tomorrow morning, _da_. Be sure to pass on the good news to Matvei." Even as he stood up, drying his hands on the towel at the sink, Alfred didn't dare to look at him, or even try to acknowledge that he, a teenager, had just been bathed like a little kid, by a grown man. "_Spokoynoy nochi, moy dorogoy Fredka._" he said before he exited. ("Good night, my dear Fredka.")

Alfred wasn't sure how long he allowed himself to stay in the bath before he finally stood up, reaching for the towels on the floor for him, and let the tub drain. He dried himself, his hair, and even gently dried the silver chain and pendant around his neck. When he returned to his and Matthew's room, he found his little brother sitting against the pillows with his teddy bear in his lap. Matthew was leaning his forehead against the plush bear's, and was whispering quietly to it; a habit he had formed as a child, as he and Alfred didn't have any friends and it was always just the two of them together. The two of them against the world. Alfred took note to how his brother had only bothered to dress himself in his pajama top and boxer shorts, and smirked slightly at the sight.

Matthew picked his head up when he felt the bed shifting; he watched as Alfred dropped his towels and crawled over to him, placing their faces closely together. _"Matthew..."_ he uttered, placing one hand on his face. Matthew flushed light pink, nuzzling his nose against Alfred's, letting his bear fall beside them.

Soon, they were both bare beneath the bedsheets together, after so long of denying themselves the releases they so desired. After all, they had both earned themselves a little bit of pleasure.

Even if only for the night.

* * *

**_To Be Continued..._**

* * *

... Yeah, this chapter is definitely a little more along the lines of filler/bonus material, so pardon me for making it rather short in comparison to the others.

And here's something I'm wondering. I've had no questions as to where or why Belarus/Natalia hasn't appeared yet. I'm a little surprised, but I haven't said anything yet. There's a little hint about her existence in the next chapter, if that'll entice you guys to review for an early update again.

But all the same, thanks for reading. And I promise, plot starts moving quicker come chapter 7.

See y'all next time!~

_P.S.: As always, if you see any errors you may point them out to me, but just be polite about it and not snobbish, okay?_


	8. Chapter 7: The Music Room

Hey there guys, now it is time for chapter 7!~ Which ensues our first time skip, and perhaps even shows a little bit of Ivan's softer side? I'll let you guys decide on that though. And as I said last time, this chapter also contains a subtle hint toward what happened to or where Natalia is.

So, I hope you guys enjoy!~

_P.S.: Also, I'm giving a verbal shout-out to Sacaly Amroma, who so very-graciously did some French translation corrections for me. Thanks so much! :3_

* * *

**_Chapter 7: The Music Room_**

* * *

It took several weeks for the boys to adjust to their new lives. What was more, they didn't know what the date was until four days later. Before they knew it, it was the middle of May.

But what really motivated them to work their hardest was when they were having breakfast, alone, with Ivan on their first Wednesday morning at the Braginski manor. Katyusha had left early to bring Raivis to school, while Eduard and Toris had also gotten up early, thrown together breakfast for everyone, before heading off to their respective universities for early study sessions. Ivan, however, took his time in having his breakfast, drinking his coffee, and reading his newspaper.

When Alfred and Matthew began to eat their re-heated breakfast, quietly, Ivan set down his coffee cup and asked them rather casually, "You would like to see your parents again, _da?_"

While Matthew gasped and froze up, Alfred dropped his cutlery noisily against his plate. Irregardless of their respective reactions, they picked their heads up and looked at their master with two identical pairs of widened eyes. Ivan let out a small laugh at that, placing his newspaper down. "I seem to have caught your attention, _da?_ But it does not seem to answer my question."

Matthew was then nodding his head very quickly. "_Oui oui, Monsieur._"

"Yes," Alfred agreed, nodding his head a few times. "Yes, we do."

A small smirk pulled its way at the corners of Ivan's mouth and, as he leaned his head against his left knuckles, shutting his poisonous purple optics before he said, "Well then, I have a little proposition for you, _da_. So long as you both behave as well as you can manage, don't break anything, and do your chores as I expect and request, then, I can arrange for you to have phone calls with them. Perhaps if you really please me, then I can also arrange for an in-person visit to their holding facility. Can you agree with these terms, _malyshi?_" ("little ones?")

With a proposition like that one, the boys found that all they could do was agree.

From that morning on, the two of them were motivated solely by the prospects of seeing their dearest parents again; even just being able to hear their voices for a little while on the phone could be enough to satisfy them for a short while. Every ache, pain and complaint they had, they kept to themselves until they were alone at night. They mopped, swept, vacuumed and scrubbed with all of their might. Whatever energy they had left at the end of the days, they took to helping each other shower every other night, then dressing for bed before collapsing side-by-side, passing out cold until the sun came up, greeting them to a new day as Katyusha rousted them.

On Sundays, however, Ivan was kind to them and gave them half of the day off. He would let them sleep in, do their chores until lunch time, and let them have their Sunday afternoons and evenings off. During this time, they sometimes took a nap, bathed so as not to worry about it another day, or even spent time with one of the other boys. Toris was open to letting them sit with him in his bedroom or the downstairs study; either they would read or make small-talk with their elder, who often did his best not to ask them about their personal lives (or lack-there-of, given their new living situation) or their parents. He knew that while they were motivated to speak to them and see them again, it was still a touchy subject for the two boys.

Sometimes they even found themselves spending time with Eduard or Raivis; Eduard would make polite conversation with them over tea, while Raivis often asked them to play with him. Every now and then, they would cave and play with their youngest superior, who treated them the same way he did his big brothers. He could somehow manage to bring smiles onto their faces, recalling the play-times they used to have with their half-German, half-Italian cousins, Gilbert Junior and Lovino Romano Beilschmidt. Gilbert Junior was their elder named after his uncle, and Little Lovino was their younger cousin. They lived in Venice, Italy with their uncles, Ludwig and Feliciano, who visited them once a year, and they visited them as well.

One night, Matthew leaned his head against his hand and asked to Alfred's half-asleep face, _"Do you ever think about the rest of our family?"_

Alfred, who wasn't as sleepy as he seemed, slipped his eyes halfway open and let out a quiet moan. _"Sometimes I do... sometimes I don't... most of the time, I just think about Mama and Papa..."_ Even though he didn't want to, he started to tremble. The rest of their family was lucky. They weren't Americans. They weren't captured and forcibly brought to an unfamiliar country with an unfamiliar language they had to struggle to begin learning. They weren't the ones auctioned off to the highest bidders and forced to be the live-in servants of a wealthy Russian man for the rest of their natural lives. _"You shouldn't try to think about them too much, Mattie... it'll drive us mad if we do. All we can do for now is worry about Mama and Papa... and each other."_

Matthew, even though he was a little disheartened by his normally heroic brother's response, found it a bit wise for him to have even said that in the first place. He smiled, snuggled into his brother and said, _"Oui... you're right..."_

Then, wrapped up in each other's arms, they drifted off to sleep.

* * *

One day, Ivan requested that the twins clean a few of the rooms they hadn't been in before. They were mostly spare rooms, storage rooms... others even he couldn't remember what they were. All the twins knew about them were that they were abandoned, which meant that they had become rather dusty.

None the less, though, they dove into their new task.

All of the others were out again that day; the older boys at their universities while Raivis was at school, and Katyusha was out until lunch doing the grocery shopping. It was just the twins alone in the house with Ivan, who sat in his study; as usual.

With bandannas holding their hair out of their faces, they twins also armed themselves with bandannas over their noses and mouths, so as not to breathe in too much dust as they cleaned up the abandoned rooms. Every now and then, they would exit in the middle of cleaning to go wash their faces, so as not to get their eyes too irritated by the dust.

After dusting and cleaning for most of the morning, they then arrived at the final door at the end of the hallway only to find it to be jammed. Alfred struggled to bust it open while Matthew whimpered and suggested that they get Ivan, so as not to get on the man's bad side (which they hadn't done much lately, which was miraculously done so on Alfred's part) in case they broke the door. Soon, though, Alfred was able to push the door open, albeit a bit roughly. It bonked noisily against the wall, but that was about it. He then stood straight, put his hands on his hips and said, "See? I told you I could get it open!"

Both of the boys then found themselves blinking at the inside of the room; it didn't look like storage, or spare rooms like the others ones. It had light blue, thin curtains drawn closed that did little to hold back the sunlight because of the bright color they were made of. There was an elegant, obviously hand-crafted wardrobe with a matching dresser, night stand and desk all set up against the same wall. Piled upon the flat surfaces, where they could sit, were several boxes; all unmarked, all sealed.

What the twins were most intrigued about, though, was the sheet-covered grand piano that looked too big to have even fit through the door.

_"Wooooow..."_ Matthew found himself breathing out in wonder as he and Alfred entered the room, slowly making their way over to the covered piano. Together, they shut their eyes and pulled off the dusty sheets, pleasantly surprised to see the shiny black wood beneath it. Matthew circled around to the covered keys, lifting up the cover and wondering aloud, "I wonder if it's in tune..." He ran his fingers across a few keys, and found his question answered. It was somehow in perfect working order; perhaps it was well-maintained, despite being enclosed in a room such as this one?

_"Wow..."_ Alfred sighed. "It's been so long since we've played one of these, hasn't it, Mattie?"

Matthew smiled with a nod, daring to sit down on the piano bench once he pulled the sheet off from over it. _"I wonder..."_ Matthew began, playing a quiet little melody for a few moments as he continued. "Should we even be in here?"

Alfred gave a light chuckle. "Who cares if we shouldn't? We were told to clean the abandoned rooms... and I'd call this one abandoned." He slipped his eyes closed, listening to Matthew as the notes poured from his fingers and the piano strings. He felt himself relaxing just a little bit; even more so when Matthew played the melody to the lullaby their father sung to them.

Soon, a different song was coming from the younger twin's fingertips as they danced across the gleaming, ivory keys. Without even realizing it, the words to it began to find their way out of Alfred through his vocal chords.

It was a song the two of them had played time and time again. Sometimes Alfred sung it, sometimes Matthew. Sometimes their father or their mother. It could come from any one of them.

* * *

Ivan stepped out of his study with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as he headed down the hallway to go make himself tea to calm his nerves. For once in a blue moon, Princessa Pushka meowed and followed after him; trotting along behind her owner, quietly shadowing him as she did from time to time. Patiently and rather obediently, she stopped behind him when he suddenly halted at the end of the hall.

The familiar, out-of-place sound of a piano being played met Ivan's ears not long after he stepped out of his office. He turned his head in the direction that it was coming from; the final hallway on the end of the house he looked to. The same hallway where the spare rooms he asked for the twins to clean were. _And in the final room..._

He began to walk quickly now, Puskha speeding up to keep up with him, until, halfway down the hall, he began to hear Alfred's voice beginning to sing.

Alfred: **_Well, I know the feeling, _**  
**_Of finding yourself stuck out on the ledge. _**  
**_And there ain't no healing, _**  
**_From cutting yourself with the jagged edge._**

As soon as the boy's voice hit his ears, he froze in his place, causing Puskha to sit by his feet again.

Alfred: **_I'm telling you that, it's never that bad; _**  
**_Take it from someone who's been where you're at. _**  
**_Laid out on the floor, _**  
**_And you're not sure you can take this anymore..._**

Ivan then slowly began continuing down the hallway, stopping at the open doorway and leaning his back against the wall beside it. He just stood there, silent and still, and listened. He even dared to close his eyes; to appreciate the music.

Alfred and Matthew: **_So just give it one more try with a lullaby, _**  
**_And turn this up on the radio. _**  
**_If you can hear me now, _**  
**_I'm reaching out, _**  
**_To let you know that you're not alone._**

* * *

Alfred was holding out, pulling to, and out-stretching his arms as he saw fit while he sung. It had been ages since he or Matthew had played the piano and did a little performance. For once, he didn't wonder what would happen if they were caught "slacking off". They had been cleaning for hours that morning; a little break to play the piano wouldn't hurt. Could it?

Alfred: _**And if you can't tell, I'm scared as hell, **_  
_**'Cos I can't get you on the telephone. **_  
_**So just close your eyes...**_

Matthew: _**(Close your eyes...)**_

Alfred: **_Oh, honey, here comes a lullaby... _**  
**_Your very own lullaby..._**

Matthew, as he played the notes he remembered all-too-well, as if they were burned into his very soul, kept his eyes closed and head bowed downward, and slowly bobbing up and down to the song as they performed. His eyebrows were gently knit together in concentration, his lips hung open slightly to sing along to the back-up vocals as Alfred belted out the main lyrics with all of his heart and soul.

Back in America, sometimes they would go to Open-Mic Nights at local cafes with each other, and sometimes with their parents. They would go up together, Alfred on his guitar and Matthew on his keyboard, and put on short performances. If there was one thing the twins were born to do, it was share their voices and talents with the world. They always killed it at Open-Mic Nights; they were always told that they had a natural gift. All they had was each other, even with their talents they were still ridiculed and ignored by the other kids at school. Being able to do something amazing with each other really brought them closer together, and made them believe that they would show them one day; without a doubt.

Alfred: **_Please let me take you, _**  
**_Out of the darkness and into the light. _**  
**_'Cos I have faith in you, _**  
**_That you're gonna make it through another night._**

Unbeknownst to them, in entered Pushka, who jumped onto the side of the piano bench, undetected, as if she was trying to get a front-row spot to hear them.

Alfred: **_Stop thinking about, the easy way out, _**  
**_There's no need to go and blow the candle out; _**  
**_Because you're not dumb, _**  
**_You're far too young, _**  
**_And the best is yet to come._**

Alfred and Matthew: **_So just give it one more try with a lullaby, _**  
**_And turn this up on the radio. _**  
**_If you can hear me now, _**  
**_I'm reaching out, _**  
**_To let you know that you're not alone._**

Alfred: **_And if you can't tell, I'm scared as hell, _**  
**_'Cos I can't get you on the telephone. _**  
**_So just close your eyes..._**

Matthew: **_(Close your eyes...)_**

Alfred: **_Oh, honey, here comes a lullaby... _**  
**_Your very own lullaby..._**

Alfred, bringing his hands down, holding them over his heart, slipped his eyes halfway open as the piano notes came out gentler.

Alfred: **_Well, everybody's hit the bottom; _**  
**_Everybody's been forgotten. _**  
**_When everybody's tired of being alone... _**  
**_Yeah, everybody's been abandoned, _**  
**_And left a little empty-handed. _**  
**_So, if you're out there barely hanging on..._**

His eyes closed again and his arms extended out at his sides; like an angel spreading its wings to fly.

Alfred and Matthew: **_Just give it one more try with a lullaby, _**  
**_And turn this up on the radio. _**  
**_If you can hear me now, _**  
**_I'm reaching out, _**  
**_To let you know that you're not alone._**

Alfred: _**And if you can't tell, I'm scared as hell, **_  
_**'Cos I can't get you on the telephone. **_  
_**So just close your eyes...**_

Matthew: **_(Close your eyes...)_**

Alfred: **_Oh, honey, here comes a lullaby... _**  
**_Your very own lullaby..._**

Alfred and Matthew: _**Oh, honey, here comes a lullaby... **_  
_**Your very own lullaby...**_

The twins shared a few moments of silence after they finished the song. All of a sudden, the sound of clapping hands met their ears and they both snapped their heads up, landing their eyes on the doorway where Ivan stood proud and tall with his signature long scarf, with an oddly soft smile on his face.

Despite their master not appearing to be mad, Alfred and Matthew scrambled over to him and began to bow in apology as Alfred spluttered out, **_"Sorry sorry sorry! We didn't know if we had to clean in here or not and when we saw the piano-"_**

"_Uspokoytes', Fredka. Matvei._" ("Calm yourselves, Fredka. Matvei.") Both boys stilled and calmed down at Ivan's oddly friendly tone; having placed one of his hands atop each of their heads. In a bit of a friendly manner, he caressed the top of their hair and praised them. "Is that any way to react when someone gives you applause, though?" he asked with a chuckle.

The boys lifted up their heads, blinking at him as Matthew asked in his quiet tone, _"You're not mad?"_

"How can I be mad when you play so well, _da?_" Ivan questioned.

The twins turned their heads to each other, sharing a confused look with one another before looking back at Ivan as he lifted his hands from their heads.

"Perhaps one day you'll play something Russian for me..." Ivan mused aloud as he turned and walked to the door. "Maybe even next time I have a guest, _da?_"

The boys simply nodded and bolted to catch up to their master, not noticing how Puskha followed after them as well.

"Now then, let's prepare the tea?" Ivan seemed to suggest, rather than order.

This day was turning out to be rather extraordinary.

* * *

Later on that night, Alfred and Matthew were allowed to call their parents for the first time.

After supper, as they were preparing to finish their duties for the night, Ivan said he relieved them for the day and had something else for them to do. He brought them upstairs to his study, where he had them wait on the sofa against the wall, for several minutes. After talking on the phone in Russian and being transferred and connected time after time, he pushed a button, placed the corded phone down onto the receiver and motioned for the boys to come over. Quickly, they obeyed, and when they approached his desk, he stood up, pressed the speakerphone button, and from the speaker they heard an all-too familiar voice. **_"Tout petits?"_**

Immediately, they gasped in unison and scrambled forwards, closer to the phone, both saying, **_"Papa, Papa!"_**

Ivan then walked around his desk and left without a word, leaving them be.

_**"Papa... it's really you!"**_ Matthew said with a smile so wide and happy tears flowing down his cheeks.

_**"Oh, mon tout petits... how wonderful it is to hear your voices again!"**_ Francis said, his voice shaking a bit. His throat was choked up, and tears were coming down from his eyes as well.

_"Papa... how... how are you?"_ was all Alfred could muster himself up to ask.

_**"I'm fine, just fine, my Alfie."**_ Francis replied with one of his signature, rumbling-from-the-chest chuckles. It made the boys smile all the more; to hear something familiar like this helped to give them a sense of normalcy. **_"There isn't much to do around here, but... Mama and I are hanging in there as best as we can."_**

_"Do you..."_ Alfred began. _"Do you know when... if... at all... when... when you might?..."_

**_"Be let out?"_** Francis finished for him.

Alfred nodded with a, "_Oui._"

_**"It still isn't all too sure yet..."**_ Francis replied. **_"According to some of the other prisoners, our case seems pretty simple compared to the others. Especially since we haven't been handled with contempt at all..."_**

_"So... maybe you'll be let out early?..."_ Matthew asked, meekly. Naively.

Francis laughed lightly at that. _**"Maybe... but, we can't be sure about anything..."**_

Alfred then, with a slight sniffle, asked, _"Papa... how is... how is Mama?.."_

There was silence on the other end for a moment until Francis sighed. **_"Mama is... hanging in there."_**

_"Is he still sick?"_ Alfred asked.

**_"Yes... I tried to wake him up in time for our phone call, but he wouldn't roust. He really needs his rest... he really wanted to talk to you two, though. I swear to it. He misses your little voices so much, _tout petits_..."_**

Matthew, biting on his bottom lip, then sniffled and stuttered out, _"G-gi-gi-give... give Mama our love, Papa... s'il vous plaît..."_ ("please...")

_**"**_**Oui, mon tout petits.**_**"**_ Francis replied. **_"Mama and I love you very, very much. Never forget that."_** From a distance, wherever Francis was in whatever room he was in, the twins then heard someone speaking in Russian to him. With a sigh, Francis then said, _**"I don't have a lot of time to talk to you tonight, boys... but, maybe next time we'll have longer, okay?"**_

"_D'accord, Papa._" ("Okay, Papa.") they both replied, each with a nod.

All of a sudden, they heard a sort of thud and jingling on the other end, followed by their papa giving out a gasp. Footsteps shuffled closer to their father and, upon reaching him, they heard their mother say, **_"I'm awake, I'm awake, I'm here!"_**

**_"_Mon amour_, you shouldn't be on your feet! You should be-"_**

A bit of shuffling was heard again before the phone was brought to Arthur's head and, trembling a little, he spoke into it, **_"Alfred, Matthew?..."_**

The boys began to tear up all over again, sniffling at the sound of their mother's voice. _"Mama..."_ they whimpered out.

**_"Oh, my precious boys..."_** Arthur sighed out, beginning to let out his held-in sobs; allowing them to rake through his tired body.

_"Mama, don't cry... please don't cry, Mama... s'il vous plaît!"_ Alfred replied.

**_"I'm so happy... so happy that I can... that I can hear you again..."_** Arthur sobbed before he was heard trying to breathe deeply through them.

A jingle was heard as the phone was taken from his hands and back into Francis', who then said, **_"Mama is alright, boys... don't worry... he's being strong for you."_**

Matthew bit his lip when he heard the Russian speak to them again. He then asked, _"Papa, do you have to go soon?"_

**_"_Oui_, my little Matthew... I'm so sorry."_** Francis replied.

Alfred smiled, taking Matthew into his arms. "It's okay, Papa... even just this is enough to... to help keep us going for a little while longer."

_"Oui..."_ Matthew whimpered out, sniffling again.

The phone was then moved so that both Francis and Arthur could hear their sons talking, which meant keeping their heads close together. **_"Boys... we love you very much. Keep your chins up, and just remember; we'll all be together again soon... we'll have our little family back one day."_** Arthur said, doing his best to keep his tone from trembling, but was failing to do so.

"_Mm,_" Alfred nodded. "_Nous allons garder être courageux, être fort, et être bon. Nous promettons._" ("We'll keep being brave, being strong, and being good. We promise.")

Francis chuckled lightly. **_"_C'est notre petit héros, en effet._"_** ("That's our little hero, indeed.")

Matthew, turning his head from Alfred's chest, then asked, _"Papa?... Mama?... Could you... could you sing our lullaby to us?"_

Both of their parents let out a soft laugh at that. **_"Of course. Anything for our boys."_ **Francis answered.

And then, as Alfred and Matthew simply stood there, holding onto each other, their parents began to sing their lullaby for them.

Francis: **_Mon bébés sont joli..._**

Arthur: **_Maman veille, mon petits..._**

Francis and Arthur: **_Ne crains rien, sèche tes pleurs, _**  
**_Viens sur mon coeur, _**  
**_Mon tout petits..._**

**_Tu auras bien le temps, _**  
**_Car certains sont méchants, _**  
**_De connaître les soucis, _**  
**_Et les chagrins durant ta vies..._**

The boys relished hearing their parents humming during the lullaby's short interlude; suddenly they were flashing back to being small children, held in their parents arms after having a nightmare, or wetting the bed, or being awoken by the loud sound of thunder. It always made them think back to being children, nestled between their parents in their bed, safe from all of the evils of the world in their loving arms.

It was enough for now.

Francis: _**Tu es notre doux trésors,**_

Arthur: **_(Tout petits...)_**

Francis: _**C'est toi seul nous j'adore...**_

Arthur: **_(Tout petits...)_**

Francis: **_Toi la raison de nous vie,_**

Francis and Arthur: **_Bébés joli oui, mon tout petits..._**

**_Tout petits, tout petits..._**

With that, the boys were able to sleep peacefully that night. Nestled together, their foreheads touching, and Kumajiro between them in Matthew's arms. They had pleasant dreams, and slept undisturbed through the night after being able to talk to their parents.

When they awoke the next morning, they felt all the more stronger.

They still had to keep going; being brave, being strong, and being good every day until their family was back together. It was all they had to strive for. But it was enough. It was their only goodness.

* * *

**_To Be Continued..._**

* * *

... And that's a wrap for chappy 7! Sorry it's not too plot-heavy, but c'mon, this chapter alongside the last chapter, _Bath Time_, were written for a bit of a break from all of the seriousness, and as a way to show that Ivan isn't just a crotchity old bastard. There is not a lot I've revealed about him yet, but all in due time perhaps some hints and implications will help you better understand just exactly what and who he is.

And the two songs from this chapter, respectively, are _Lullaby_ by Nickelback (I love this song so much, and I chose it for the twins to sing for a reason) and the French version of _Baby Mine_ from Dumbo, _Mon Tout Petit_, slightly tweaked for it sounded like it was being sung to more than one child. I just popped the lyrics into Google Translate and it did an okay job with what it means in English. I've pasted the translation below so you can understand what Francis and Arthur were saying.

Anyways, thank you all very much for reading, as always, and I'll see y'all next week! And I hope the next chapter is surprising for you guys; it sort of does a one-eighty and brings everything to a not-so-sweet place like this chappy did.

_P.S.: I apologize if next week's chapter is posted late, or if I'm late in replying to reviews if at all. I've been very spacey lately... I blame the writer's block. But no worries, even if the chapter is late I'll make sure it gets posted!_

* * *

Lullaby translations:

Francis: My babies are so beautiful...

Arthur: Mama will hold you, little ones...

Francis and Arthur: Fear not, and dry your tears,  
Stay close to my heart,  
My little ones...

You'll have plenty of time,  
Because some are unkind,  
To hear about the concerns,  
And the troubles in your lives...

Francis: You're our sweetest treasures,

Arthur: (Little ones...)

Francis: It is only you we adore...

Arthur: (Little ones...)

Francis: You are the reason we live,

Francis and Arthur: Yes you are very beautiful, my little ones...

Little ones, little ones...


	9. Chapter 8: Bad Boys Need To Be Punished

Hey guys, sorry for a late update again. Distractions are distracting, and I'm working on converting this story into a novel manuscript, believe it or not. Of course though I'm changing Arthur from a male to a female for it, and let's just say... oh my GOD, proofreading is tedious and mind-numbing. ;-; It doesn't help I'm still stuck on chapter 16... so I might lengthen the time between updates until I have some more material. :( Sorry about that!

Anyways, time to turn the tables away from the feel-goods and start seeing a bit of Ivan's twisted side. Ready the tissues if you're tend to crying... I know writing this made me cry a little myself.

* * *

**_Chapter 8: Bad Boys Need To Be Punished_**

* * *

Alfred really knew he had screwed up when he saw just how enraged his master was.

It was after breakfast time, and the boys were clearing the table as usual when, on a freak accident, Alfred slipped, dropping a platter and several small plates, his eyes going wide as he gasped. They clattered and shattered against the floor; to make matters worse, Alfred then fell atop of them and several pieces of the dirty plate shards ripped through the fabric of his frock and dug into his skin, causing him to yelp out loudly in pain.

_**"Brother!"**_ Matthew quickly set down the plates he held as carefully as he could manage and knelt down at his twin's side, pulling him up and off of the now bloodied mess of broken plates. **_"Big Brother, are you okay?!"_**

_"I-I'm fine-"_ Alfred's face then suddenly paled and his eyes narrowed in fright upon seeing a familiar pair of black dress shoes situating themselves behind Matthew. Trembling in pain and in fear, he lifted his head up and saw the creased, furrowed brow and angered scowl upon the silvery-haired man's face. He gave out the quietest _eep_ that he could muster, before lifting one of his hands up in defense and said, **_"Ma-Master, I'm so sorry! It was an accident, I swear-"_**

_**"Vy neuklyuzhiy, neblagodarnyy malen'koye otrod'ye!"**_ ("You clumsy, ungrateful little brat!")

Alfred soon found himself grasped by the neck; Ivan's large fingers curling around the material of his collar, nails digging into his flesh as the appendage attached to his head became constricted by his large, so very, _very large_ hand. He soon brought up his own hands in a vain attempt to pull Ivan's away from his neck, grasping onto the man's wrist as he choked out, **_"L-let me go!..."_**

**_"Brother, let him go! It was an _accident_; he slipped!"_** Katyusha said, only being elbowed away when she tried to approach her younger brother.

**_"That is no excuse!"_** Ivan replied, turning his head to his sister and tightening his grip even more, causing Alfred to splutter out and gasp futilely for air like a fish out of water. **_"Does he see me breaking his things?! I ask him not to break my things, and yet he _breaks them_!"_**

**_"Master, put him down, please!"_** Matthew exclaimed, trying to lunge forwards only to be physically held back by Toris, who was trying to tell him to calm down.

_"Je... Je... Je suis... désolé... Je suis désolé!..."_ ("I... I... I'm... sorry... I'm sorry!...") Alfred wheezed out between chokes as he spluttered, feeling his head spinning as his eyes began to roll into the back of his head. His kicking, struggling feet began to slow down and, upon his eyes slowly slipping closed, his limbs fell down; arms limp at his sides, legs dangling beneath him.

Matthew let out a blood-curdling scream, which spooked Raivis into beginning to cry, before he shouted out, **_"BROTHER! NON NON NON, HE'S DEAD YOU KILLED HIM YOU KILLED HIM!"_**

"He is not _dead_, just _passed out_." Ivan said, simply slinging the unconscious boy over his shoulder before he turned, pushing roughly past his eldest nephew and without looking at his dear sister, who hoisted her youngest son up into her arms and began to comfort him; all the while sending a worried look her brother's way.

**_"Wait-"_** Matthew tried in vain to escape from Toris' grasp, only to have the elder hold onto him even tighter than before. _**"Master, please, wait! S'il vous plaît, Master!"**_

"Fredka has done something bad, Matvei." Ivan said in a low, almost beastly growling-like tone as he stopped at the doorway. "When you do something bad, you must be punished, _da?_ Or is there no such thing as condoning corporal punishment in Amerika, the no longer home of the free?"

**_"Tha-that's not-"_**

**_"TISHINA!"_** ("SILENCE!") Ivan barked, successfully making Matthew yelp loudly from his tone and his facial expression. He took in a bit of inward glee out of making the youth cower and try to hide behind Toris' restraining arms. "Now unless you want to join us, _moya dorogaya nemnogo Matvei,_ then by all means, come with me." ("my dear little Matvei") He narrowed his pupils at the shaking, cowering child. "But unless you don't feel like receiving unjust punishment by my hand, then clean up this mess, and kindly **_SHUT UP!_**"

Matthew trembled and whimpered, gently pulling himself away from Toris' grasp before he bowed, keeping his head down low so as not to look at Ivan while he was fuming. _"Yes, Master..."_

**_"Hrmph."_** Ivan spat before he turned to exit. **_"Zhalkiye."_** ("Pathetic.")

When his owner left the room with his unconscious brother in tow, Matthew used all of his willpower to not run after them and beg for Alfred's forgiveness... as well as to not let himself faint. He knew he would never hear the end of it if he did.

* * *

When Alfred came to, his head swirled and he let out a soft moan as he picked up his head to take in his surroundings. He was in a dark, large, cold room he had never seen before. His brow creased as his head throbbed, biting his lip as he tried to remember what happened before he passed out.

That's right; pain was slowly fading into his abdomen where the shards of broken plates had dug into his flesh. He had broken the plates when he tripped. When he broke the plates, Ivan got mad. **_Really mad._** He then felt the leftover pains of having his neck constricted grow. Doing his best to clear his vision - had his glasses been taken away? - he looked down at himself, seeing the large and smaller gashes on his body from the plates; his dress was gone and all he was left in now were his bloomers, which had a few stray blood stains on them from his wounds. For the most part, it appeared that they were scabbing over.

Trying to move his arms - they were numb, too - Alfred soon heard the jingling of chains meet his ears; his ears, which were partially covered by something... but covered by what? When he picked his head up, he saw what. His wrists were locked in shackles, from chains that hung from the ceiling. Blinking, he realized that his feet were barely able to touch the floor... and upon moving them and wriggling his toes, he also found himself to be barefoot.

_"What's happening?..."_ he found himself uttering, hoarsely, as looked up towards the ceiling. _"Where am I?..."_

As his sense of hearing came back more to him, he took in the distinct, rather loud ticking of a clock that he couldn't see. Soon, he heard footsteps and, trying his best to locate their direction, he turned his head to the left and saw a heavy-looking, metal door that suddenly had him flashing back to being locked in the detention center, holding facility... all fancy, glorified terms to say he was in a prison without making his captors look bad. He trembled, praying to God that he hadn't upset Ivan to the point of sending him off to prison and relinquishing the responsibilities of being his master.

All of a sudden, Alfred gasped when he realized what his thoughts were trying to lead him to. That he _wanted_ Ivan to be his master; to order him around, to smack him when he spoke ill about him, to show him who was boss. He suddenly grit his teeth and shook his head to try and rid himself of such ideas. _No! No, that isn't true! I don't want him to treat me badly... he doesn't mean anything to me! I don't care what he says!_

He then found himself snapping his head up in surprise when the door was heard being pushed open. To his horror, although not-quite-surprised to see it was him, Alfred let out the quietest whimper he could muster, which didn't help him at all as it echoed in the dark, stone room.

_"Hmmph,"_ Ivan gruffed, stepping inside and effortlessly closing the heavy door like it were made of cotton and not metal. He managed to smirk, menacingly, as his heavy, loud footsteps came closer and closer to his trembling slave's body. "I see you're awake now, Fredka." He took the American by surprise when he grasped his chin, handling him roughly, as usual. "Have you been waiting long?..." His smirk simply widened when all the boy did was whimper. "I know I have..."

Ivan had locked Alfred up in the basement three hours ago. Had he not had a more pressing matter to attend to with a few of his associates for those three hours, he would have gladly stayed down in the cellar, waiting and watching for his servant to roust. Or perhaps he wouldn't have waited for him to start waking up before he began the _fun_.

The Russian then yanked his hand away from Alfred's chin, making him hang his head again upon releasing him. He turned, folded his hands behind his back, and paced over to the wall adjacent to the door. "You did a very bad thing this morning, my little Fredka."

_"I'm sorry..."_ Alfred apologized as best as he could; half out of sincerity, half out of fear. Unfortunately, he had a feeling that Ivan knew that was why; and his assumption was correct. _"I really, **really** am sorry, Master. It was an accident, I swear to it!"_

"Excuses will get you nowhere in this world, _moy podsolnechnika._" ("my sunflower") Ivan stopped at the wall, nearby a single light switch. "Ah, _nyet_. Maybe, perhaps, just... _my world_."

With that, Ivan flicked the single, recessed light on, allowing light to cast itself upon the room. Alfred began to tremble more, as he heard from the sound of the rattling chains; the single light made the room appear more sinister than it did without any lights. The boy's eyes then suddenly widened exponentially when he saw what hung against the wall he faced. There were many technical names for all of them, yes, some of them he didn't even recognize, but they all did the same job and could each hold the same title: torture devices.

**_"Ma-Master, Master, please!"_** Alfred suddenly shouted as Ivan casually walked over to his array of toys, lifting up his hand and letting his fingertips skim over each item as he passed them slowly by, like he couldn't make up his mind. _**"Master, please, I'm sorry! Please, I'll work harder, a-and I'll take on extra chores - and I'll cook for a month! Please, I'll pay you back for breaking the dishes, I swear!"**_

"_Da,_ I know you will," Ivan's hand hovered over what looked like a large pair of forceps or pliers, or was another name for them prongs? He chuckled when he heard Alfred gasp upon witnessing him stop at them, and then simply reached for the item on its right. Again, he heard Alfred make a cowering sound as his hand curled around the handle of his black, leather whip. He lifted it off of its hook, sure not to let it unravel yet, before he turned his attention back to Alfred; he saw the boy's body quiver and shake, heard the chains jingling together from the metal-on-metal contact with one another, and smiled viciously at the flinching, trembling muscles beneath the young American's skin. "But you will be paying me back _my way_."

He lifted his right arm, letting the whip unravel to the ground, and smirked as Alfred's mouth hung open and his eyes widened impossibly further.

Teasingly, tauntingly, he slowly strode over to his property, circling around him and tapped the handle of the whip on Alfred's bare body, taking in great pleasure at the sight of it twitching and trembling beneath the unwanted attention. "_Let's see... how many lashes do you deserve, my pet?..._" Ivan wondered aloud, making Alfred shudder pathetically as the boy realized it was a rhetorical question; not something he was meant to answer, no matter how inclined to do so he may be. "You broke a platter... four small plates... two large plates... and, ruined a perfectly good, expensive article of clothing I was more than _gracious_ enough to purchase for you." He leaned his head down next to Alfred's ear, his warm breath teasing the boy as he dangerously lowered his voice and asked, "Do you know how much that dress cost me?..."

Alfred whimpered, shook his head, and said, _"Non..."_

"Nearly 3,000 rubles."

Alfred flinched, snapping his head upward in surprise. _"Three... three-thousand?..."_

"_Mm,_" Ivan answered, tapping the boy between his shoulder blades. "Or to put it in monetary values you would understand, eighty dollars."

**_"What?!"_** Alfred gasped, not daring to turn his head. _**"Why - why would you - if you don't want us to wreck something so expensive-"**_

"Why do I make you wear them, _da?_" Ivan's question was answered with a nod almost immediately. "Because, Fredka," Without touching Alfred, he wound his free arm around his body and said, "_I want what is mine to look nice._" He then grasped Alfred's chin again, much to the boy's dismay. "If it means having them risk ruining something so expensive, so be it. I will simply teach them a lesson for doing so, if need be."

_"How can you say that..."_ Alfred responded, his brow creasing. **_"Let me go!"_**

"_Nyet._" Ivan then took him by surprise by whacking him on the back, along his spine, with a harsh, brute force from the whip's handle. Alfred cried out quietly from that alone, making the man smirk again. "You need to be punished and put down to learn your lesson; just like a stubborn dog who refuses to behave." He tightened his grip on Alfred's jaw, the force of his strength causing a few of his fingertips to slip inside of his mouth. "You're an animal."

Alfred growled, trying to turn his head to look at Ivan for his comeback, but was blocked by his own arms. _**"Says the man who tied me up to punish me!"**_

A blindingly, unfamiliar sort of pain soon coursed its way through Alfred's body. It was so quick, so powerful that his cry of surprise barely made it past his lips before he was grasped by his hair, roughly, and pulled back towards Ivan's body; never making contact. "**_You foolish child._** I was going to go easy on you, but just now you've **_really pushed my buttons._**" Alfred trembled again, bringing pleasure to the man as he smirked and ghosted his breath across his ear. "Thirty lashes was going to be your punishment, but now I feel that..." He thought for a moment, smirking as Alfred grunted out a quiet, fear-filled apology and cowering sounds of a guilty dog; truly the prime example of an animal, in the Russian man's eyes. "**_Fifty_**, will get my point across, _da?..._ Or would you prefer **_sixty?_**"

Alfred struggled against the chains he dangled from, trying in vain to kick his legs only to find that Ivan held him still with one hand. He was soon surprised to find that the chains were suddenly slackened and his body fell to the floor, upon which he turned to the man behind him and lowered himself into a submissive bowing position, hiding his face in his arms. _"I'm sorry... please, Master, please, I'm sorry!..."_

He heard the sound of Ivan moving the whip, flinching downwards already in fear of what was to come.

"Sixty it is."

The first lash landed at the base of his neck, and from there on out, Alfred did nothing but cry out, shout for Ivan to stop, struggle, try to ball himself up smaller, only to find himself splaying out and writhing in pain; trying to find some way of channeling his reactions in any way other than shouting and crying, making tears stream down his face. Vaguely, he was consciously aware of Ivan counting off each crack of his whip in Russian; unable to recognize any of the numbers, he did his best to keep track in his head but he lost count somewhere past twenty. The pain was just too much to bear; he felt as if he were soon going to hyperventilate himself and pass out, which would only further prove that Ivan truly was superior to him. He didn't want that. He loathed the approaching day where he would completely shatter under that reality; Alfred knew that he wouldn't be able to handle it.

One thing was for sure, Alfred was almost certain that after a while, he was being lashed more than sixty times. Especially because Ivan had eventually ceased to verbalize any Russian words, instead letting out grunts as he tamed his "precious little Fredka" into learning how to behave.

After the last crack of the whip, Alfred kept himself cowered down onto and pressed against the floor. Every time he had been hit, it was never in the same place; it moved around, sometimes hitting the broad of his back, his shoulder, the back of his head, his neck, his arms, sometimes his buttocks if Ivan aimed correctly. By the time he was sure his punishment was over, Ivan was standing in front of him and suddenly, noisily, dropped the black whip against the cold stone floor, making Alfred flinch and attempt to scurry away; only to find he was too drained to move. To his surprise, Ivan knelt down in front of him, placing his hand atop of Alfred's sweaty hair, running his gloved fingers through the strands; smirking slightly when he saw blood on the brown fabric that covered his hands.

"_That's it, now... there we go... here's a good boy..._" Ivan cooed soothingly, gently caressing his hand down to Alfred's face, upon where he cupped his cheek and lifted the boy's head, meeting rather tired, dead-looking, glazed-over sky blue eyes that failed to see straight. "See?... Was that so difficult, _moy nemnogo dorogoy?_" ("my little darling?") His smirk widened slightly when all Alfred could muster in reply with his pain-filled, whirling head was a rather puppy-like, stutter of a whine. He rubbed his thumb across a tear-stained cheek, giving a quiet hum when Alfred's dazed eyes slipped closed. "Hush, now, my little sunflower. You held yourself up splendidly."

Alfred was sure what happened next was all in his head; a gentle, soft kiss was placed onto his nose before another was applied to his sweaty forehead, upon a hand brushing his bangs out of the way. He heard the chains rattle, feeling his arms drop like lead balloons, freed from the shackles that had, without his knowledge, dug into his skin and made him bleed. All of a sudden, his slack body was wrapped in something warm - but what, from who, and where? - before he was then hoisted up and held against a large body, like a sleepy toddler. With a struggle, Alfred tried to squirm away from whoever it was, only to have a large hand weave itself through his hair again, stroking him and soothing him, like a dog.

_"Ssssshh..."_ the deep voice shushed. _"Sssssh, ssssh, ssssh, __ssssh, _ssshh..."

With a moan, Alfred felt his head roll to the side, settling against someone's neck, or shoulder... very close to their head. His arms, weakly, instinctively, lifted up to hold onto their shoulders.

In his delirious head, as he drifted off, he thought it was his papa. It had to be his papa. It just had to.

_Who else could it be?..._

* * *

**_To Be Continued..._**

* * *

Forgive me with the rather sudden sort of U-turn here, but for the subject I'm addressing the situation called for it. Everything will make sense later on; there is a method to my madness, contrary to popular belief.

Reviews will mean good things for Alfred and Matthew... while flames and no reviews will simply add fuel to Ivan's fire.


	10. Chapter 9: Patching The Pup Up

Short chapter this time around. Sorry about that.

* * *

**_Chapter 9: Patching The Pup Up_**

* * *

Ivan set Alfred's semi-naked body, wrapped in his tan overcoat, down upon the bed that the boy shared with Matthew. Reaching into his pocket, he set Alfred's glasses onto the night stand before he smirked down at the slumbering boy; his chest rose and fell quickly, heaving to breathe even in his current unconscious state. For a moment, he thought he may have been too hard on the boy until he remembered he was his property to do with as he pleased to begin with.

One-by-one, the Russian pulled off his bloodied gloves with his teeth before he caressed the boy's cheek with the back of his hand. He hummed when Alfred leaned into the touch, chuckling as he said, "He surely is a pretty one, that is for sure."

Alfred moaned in his sleep, his brow creased. _"Mama..."_ he uttered with the voice of a child.

Running footsteps reached Ivan's ears, and he turned his head to the door, which he had left open upon entering. Surely enough, in came scampering a panicked and teary-eyed Matthew, who held onto his plush polar bear for dear life. As soon as he laid his eyes on his brother, he exclaimed, **_"Big Brother!"_**

Ivan stood up straight, keeping his expression stern as Matthew practically jumped onto the vacant side of the bed and scrambled over to the unconscious boy. He shook like a cold, wet leaf on a windy day as he placed his hands on Alfred's shoulders. _"Big Brother..."_ he whimpered, his nose wrinkling as he lowered his head and began to cry into his twin's shoulder. _"Master..."_ he whispered. _"Master, why did you have to be so cruel?!..."_

Ivan's eyebrows bolted up onto his forehead. "Keep in mind, Little Matvei, that you and Fredka are my property, _da?_ I am free to do with you as I please. Your _starshiy brat_ needs to learn his place; in a way, needs to be broken in. Do you understand, my Little Sunflower?" ("big brother")

Matthew picked his head up slightly, still crying and still unable to look at Ivan at all, before, with a hiccup, he said, _"I could feel it, too..."_

Ivan's eyebrow quirked at that. "_Hm?_"

Matthew then sat up, keeping his head down low. He lifted his trembling hands up to the collar of his frock, undoing the buttons at the top before he slipped it down his shoulders and to his elbows. When he turned around, Ivan laid his eyes on large, painful-looking bruises strewn carelessly across the boy's back; just as carelessly as he had given the lashes to Alfred. If Ivan weren't so in control of himself, surely he would have gasped at the sight upon the back of the more fragile twin; Matthew's pale, silky skin looked as delicate as porcelain and as white as milk.

_"Big Brother... Big Brother and I have always been close... when we were babies, we could only sleep well if we were in the same crib... it's always been me and him against the world..."_ Matthew slipped his eyes closed, continuing to shake beneath Ivan's gaze, from his fright and exposing his body to the man. _"Mother and Father never thought it was possible for twins to feel each others' pain until it happened to us. Most of the time we're able to only feel when our pain is great... so when you started to punish Big Brother, I could feel everything."_ He sniffled, holding back a sob in his gut. _"Not nearly as badly as what he felt... but..."_ He then lifted his arms, pulling his garment back up and over his torso. _"Keep this in mind the next time we do something wrong."_

Ivan simply turned and walked around the bed. "Duely noted."

Matthew, somehow, was able to lift his head up, the curl hanging from his part bouncing lightly as he did. Ivan stopped at the doorway, resting his hand on the doorframe, before turning his eyes onto the shaking boy. "Matvei, you and Fredka are rather useless to us for the day. I'll allow you to take the day off, but you must return to your duties tomorrow."

_"But... but what about-"_

"Fredka will resume his duties when he is recovered." Ivan replied before he exited, his scarf fluttering behind him as he began his brisk walk down the hall.

Matthew turned around, giving his full attention to his slumbering-uneasily brother, and grasped Alfred's hand in his hands. He gave it gentle kisses before he leaned over and peppered kisses over his cheeks, nose, forehead... anywhere he could. He even dared to plant his lips onto Alfred's, not surprised when they didn't move in response. When he pulled away, he placed his forehead on Alfred's and whispered, _"Big Brother... don't worry... I'll keep him away from you for the rest of the day... he won't hurt you again... I promise..."_

Had he seen his brother's face at that moment, he would have seen a small smile twitch onto his lips for just a moment.

* * *

When Ivan entered his office, he was met with a stern, angry look on his dear sister's face. He simply smiled his sly smile and asked, "What is it, my _Sestra?_"

"Sometimes I swear **_I don't know you anymore_**, Little Brother." Katyusha replied in a harsh tone. "Why on **_Earth_** - he's just a **_child_**, it was an **_accident!_** We could hear him screaming for mercy from up here!" She crossed her arms across her jiggling breasts. "Matthew started having a **_panic attack!_** He tried to find his way downstairs and then he started hyper-ventilating! I had to hold him and rock him like a baby just to try to calm him down!"

"He probably took it as an excuse to coddle his way into your bosom, _da?_" Ivan questioned as he walked by his sister.

_**"Malen'kiy Brat!"**_ ("Little Brother!") Katyusha exclaimed, turning as Ivan walked to his desk, upon where he sat down Princessa Pushka hopped onto the wooden surface. He patted Pushka atop of her head, resulting in her immediately starting to purr. **_"I, for one, think that the fact you purchased these boys is completely and utterly despicable! I hate the fact that our home country has become such a ruthless bully to their kind! The invasion was a bad idea from the start!"_** She placed her hands on her chest, over her heart. "_Every time I heard reports about the invasion on the radio or on the news...** I started to cry!**_ Ivanya, we've _lived_ in America before! How can you not remember-"

"I remember very clearly, _da_, and I always will." Ivan replied curtly, his hand ceasing to move on Pushka's head.

"Brother," Katyusha's voice was firmer now. "I don't care _what_ your line of work makes you do. **_I never want to see you treat those boys so harshly again! Do you hear me?!_**"

"They are not on same level as us, _da_. They are lower than dogs in our land."

**_"I. Don't. Care!"_** Katyusha exclaimed, fisting her hands and making her boobs bounce again. **_"As far as I'm concerned, they're a part of the family! I will _not_ let you toy with them until they've whittled away! I will treat them with the same love and respect that I give my own sons!"_**

"I don't care what you do, _Sestra_," Ivan began, reclining in his desk chair. "However, I will treat my pets the way I please, _da_."

Katyusha huffed out through her flaring nostrils before turning around and beginning to storm to the exit. "Just remember one thing, Brother." she said at the door. "Their kind gave you mercy once."

With that, she left, slamming the door, making the picture frames rattle on the wall.

_"Hmmph,"_ Ivan sighed as Puskha jumped into his lap. "Only once."

* * *

When Matthew heard the door open, he immediately snapped his eyes open and sat up, holding his arms out at his sides so as to block off Alfred from whoever was there.

"_There, there, dear,_" Katyusha said with a gentle smile as she entered the room, holding a tray full of medical supplies. "There's nothing to be afraid of anymore."

Matthew relaxed slightly at the Russian woman's presence and kind voice, and adjusted himself to kneel on the bed. _"Madame, bonjour."_ he said quietly, giving her a bow of respect.

Katyusha placed the tray down on the night stand, moving Alfred's glasses to the side of it. "None of that, now. I'm no mistress to anyone." she said, leaning one of her hands over and placing it atop of Matthew's soft, slightly wavy hair. She smiled sadly at the little whimper he let out at that, and gave him a few soothing caresses. "I'm just Katyusha to you, or any sort of variant that pleases you. _Da?_"

Matthew nodded when she took her hand away, uttering a quiet, _"Oui."_

Katyusha smiled at that before she leaned over and undid the top of her brother's overcoat. "I hope there isn't too much blood on this; it's Ivan's favorite coat." She pulled it apart and saw Alfred's chest, injured from the plate shards, and his blood-spattered bloomers. "We ought to give him a bath before we get him patched up..." Carefully, she wound one arm around Alfred's knees, lifting him off of Ivan's coat and against her shoulder. She held back a shudder, strongly, as she felt his open wounds against her arm. "Would you give me a hand, dear?" she asked, keeping her eyes on Matthew as she turned toward the bathroom.

Matthew then managed a small smile himself before he nodded, crawling over the edge of the bed and setting his feet down to follow after her, like a gosling to its mother goose.

Having Katyusha around, acting like a mother-figure, it helped to give him and Alfred a little sense of normalcy. She was nothing like her brother, and that's what they liked about her. She wasn't playing mind-games with them or trying to convince them they were more worthless than the ground dogs pooped on; she and her boys treated them as equals.

Matthew felt better, knowing that she was around.

Katyusha wasn't hesitant at all to fully undress Alfred, being the mother of three boys, and soon enough she was holding him up and carefully washing his body in the warm, bubbleless water, doing her best to keep herself composed at the sight of the unconscious teen's battered body. Matthew, too, tried not to cry too much at the sight of his injured brother, even going so far as to gently wash his hair and massage his scalp as he did so.

Alfred, throughout the whole ordeal, remained asleep. Even after being lifted nude out of the tub, wrapped in a towel and dried before he was brought back to the bed, where he was dressed in a clean pair of boxers before she cleaned his wounds and wrapped his torso up in bandages. After that, she dressed him in a fresh pair of pajamas, planted a tender kiss onto Alfred's forehead and told Matthew she would bring them both up some lunch in a little while, to which Matthew nodded.

With that, she left the boys be.

* * *

**_To Be Continued..._**

* * *

Again, I apologize for the shortness of this chapter. Every time I update I can't believe I'm close to running out of material... I'm going to work hard on chapter 16 later tonight, maybe start it over since I'm stuck, and hopefully be able to get more done so I won't need to lengthen the time between updates.

However, I have one request before I update next week. I would love to see my review count go up to 30 or 35; I keep receiving e-mail alerts telling me I have new followers and people who have favorited this, and so I want to see some more reviews as well. As of right now, I have somewhere over twenty followers and I love hearing from my readers, even if the review is just a few words long.

So, when I get 30 reviews, to sweeten the deal, I will update that very same day or the day after, depending on the amount of time I have for editing.

As usual, thank you all for reading, and now review!~ ;P Remember, 30 is the magic number!


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